#the guilt of not finding him sooner eats him alive

[hypewinter]

Tim's turn

Dick Jason Damian Cass

Lighthearted

Danny gets reincarnated as Tim's little brother. They grow up thick as thieves so when Tim becomes Robin, Danny finds out rather quickly. Having no desire to be a hero again but also wanting to make sure his brother is safe, Danny helps Alfred on coms. With the help of the knowledge of his past life, he also becomes the resident engineer. No matter what hair brained idea Tim or anyone else comes up with, Danny can build it. This ability isn't used too often though because much to the anguish of Bruce, when Danny starts working on a project, he temporarily develops his brother's atrocious sleeping habits.

Angsty

The Drake parents take Danny with them to their archeological digs because he's too young to stay home with Tim. They're really exasperated about this because Danny takes a lot of time away from their dig time (he's about 2). At one of their digs, when they are at peak annoyance with Danny, they meet a couple hunting for ghosts. When the couple mentions wanting another kid but being unable to have anymore children Janet and Jack get an idea. They tell the couple they can take their son. It is a partial joke but when the couple says sure they think why not? One's enough anyway. When his parents get home without his baby brother and Tim finds out why, he doesn't talk to his parents for months. Meanwhile Danny is constantly crying the first few months he's with the Fentons because he misses his parents. But with his little toddler brain he eventually moves on and forgets about his old family. Tim on the other hand dedicates his whole life to finding his little brother. Whenever he's not working on a case, he's searching for any sign of him. He finally finds a picture of a local hero in a small town in Illinois. His hair may be white and his eyes may be green. He may look older too. But it doesn't matter. Tim would recognize his brother anywhere.

[hello-sweetheart]

You know that trope where Person A thinks Person B is just being nice but they’re actually flirting. What about the opposite? Person A misreading their behavior and being the only one falling impossibly in love.

Clumsy in Love part 4

Eddie rubs his hands over his face and presses the heels of his palm into his eyes.

Im such a piece of shit. God, how could I just do that.

He’s pissed at Steve for not saying something sooner, for waiting until Eddie had something good in his grasp. But he’s angry with himself too.

How stupid is he, really? Did he really not notice until it all came face to face?

He has Adiel’s number memorized, but he knows which of Steve’s beauty marks form constellations.

Mostly, hes confused. His feelings are a jumbled mess and he’s never been good at sorting them out. Naturally, he turns to music. Dio has serenaded him these past few days. Wayne has steered clear of his shit show.

How do you feel right now?

What do you see?

Where would you be right now?

Hey angel what about me?

Jesus fucking fuck. He attempts to run his hand through his hair only it doesn’t get too far, rings snagged in his tangled hair. He can feel the oil built up on the strands and knows it’s time to get his ass out of bed. He doesn’t.

“Angel, Angel, angel. You were my angel. Just not anymore.” He mutters to himself long after the track has finished and another song plays. He’s learning to let go still, even after he’s ended it.

You know what really makes him feel like a dickhead? That Adiel got hurt because of him. He didn’t deserve to get caught in Eddie’s bullshit.

Guilt eats him alive.

His conscious hurts and his heart trembles, tumbled in his chest, but he doesn’t feel the heartbreak the way he should. That world-on-fire and breath burning feeling. He can’t find it.

Like a masochist he wants for it, desires it, deserves it like sinner.

Those last few weeks were enough for his feelings to settle, for his heart to make a decision with or without his input. He tried—god fuck I tried—to feel that skipped-beat flutter when Adiel smiled his way. Could almost convince himself he could. That Adiel’s interlocked hand in his still felt an extension of himself instead of something foreign.

It used to feel like I belonged at his side. Why did it have to stop?

He’s wronged a friend who trusted him to keep his heart safe. A friend who had already been through so much. And Eddie added to that lifetime of hurt because he couldn’t figure it out himself.

Because he was too stupid to see and too stupid to know.

He thinks of Steve’s lips, like he has now for days. Weeks. His heart twists, rung out. That skipped-beat flutter that betrays him.

Fuck. Fuck, man.

He has to stop yanking at his hair like he can train himself out of feeling it.

Do your demons, do they ever let you go?

When you've tried, do they hide, deep inside

Is it someone that you know?

You're just a picture, you're an image caught in time

We're a lie, you and I.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he tells no one because he needs to say it until he can forgive himself a little. Until he can make himself believe that Adiel will forgive him, in time.

“I’m so sorry,” this time says it to himself, covers his face with his hands and finally cries.

Against his fucking will he cries, can’t hold onto it anymore. Ugly retching sobs that can only come from mourning an almost.

Finally, after days of like solitude, Wayne creeps in un-intrusive as a shadow. His hand on his shoulder may be the only thing that keeps Eddie from disappearing.

“I could’ve loved him, Wayne. I could’ve—I did. I think I fucking loved him and I didn’t know until—until I didn’t anymore. And then—and then I just couldn’t again.”

I wish he got to know that. That even for a short time, I had loved him.

Wayne, ever a man of few words, sits with him and lets him have his silence.

———

It’s a little over a month after that that Steve pays him a visit.

He’s smart enough to show up when Wayne isn’t home, looking sheepish as he shuffles on his front step. At least he has the gall to look him in the eyes.

All this is because of you, he thinks. His dark under eyes, his pallid skin. The rage in his blood. The almost that he had.

“Why are you here?” He looks taken aback, almost shrinks in on himself.

“I… the boys said that you, well.” Steve rubs the back of his neck, his hair longer than when Eddie last saw it. It slips through Steve’s fingers. “You never came by again and I wanted to see you. To talk? Can we talk? Can’t… can’t I come in?”

Having Steve in his home, in his space, is dangerous.

Those eyes are deep, soften by tired shadows.

“No,” his swallow is audible and steels himself, “Why should I want you in my home, Steve?”

Steve stands there lips parted and hands clenches at the bottom of his sweatshirt, eyes shined over. Eddie takes the chance to step forward. Everything inside him is too much.

“Don’t you understand what you did? I was happy. And you, fuck, you ruined it! Steve! You!” He out of the door way now and Steve steps back, back, back.

Steve’s face is red in shame. Eddie’s in anger. His pointed finger jabbed at his chest, accusing.

“You couldn’t just let me be happy? Why? Why did you kiss me, Steve? Why then? Was it because you couldn’t stand that I finally had someone? Say something!”

Steves eyes overflow, “Yes! I could stand it because I love you, asshole! I thought, I don’t know—I thought you loved me, too. Okay? Me. We both felt it—tell me you felt it too, Eddie? It wasn’t just me, right?

“You were everywhere and everything. You’d smile at me and it was the sun. So close, always right there and it was like we were—we were teetering on the edge of something amazing. And I was so happy, Eddie. So happy that day ‘cuz I thought, it was just us, right? Me and you. Just us. Together.

“But then you saw him and your weren’t even listening to me. You didn’t hear a word I said, did you? You only had eyes for him. You left me there and I didn’t know what to do with myself ‘cuz suddenly all you’d talk about was him. Every day and every minute we were together. After thinking, after thinking you loved me too.

That I had you.

So yes! Okay? I kissed you because I was selfish and I needed to know. I needed to know if any of it was real. If there really was nothing there.”

Steve’s breathing hard by the end of, words a wavering wet string of rawn vulnerable pulled out of his chest. He’s looking at the floor, hair covering his eyes, and shoulders trembling as he hiccups.

Then, everything feels still. Calm inside. For the first time in ages, Eddie feels like he can take a deep breath and not fall apart. He closes his eyes for a second and just breathes. The fight escapes him with the last breath.

“You ruined me, Steve. You ruined me in a way that even I didn’t understand. I didn’t know, not until that night, about how you felt. And I’m sorry if it was my fault, if I did and said things to make you feel that way, okay? But I didn’t… I didn’t feel that way about you. Not then. Not when you kissed me.”

“And now? Eddie? Do you… could you feel that way for me, now?”

“If it weren’t for you,” he begins, “Adiel and I… we could’ve had something great. But then you—and I— I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I wondered so much on why you kissed me that night, replaying every moment together, to see what you saw. And ended up feeling… feeling what you felt.”

He takes the chance to move forward the last bit of space to reach to him, have him look him in the eyes. Both of them mirror images of despair.

“You ruined me, Stevie. Everything was different. It wasn’t perfect anymore, I couldn’t make it perfect again. And I couldn’t be who I had been with Adiel knowing that I couldn’t find in me what we had before. That maybe, this has the chance of being something amazing, too.

I stopped seeing you everyday, so I saw you in everything. I stopped speaking to you, and you became the voice inside my head. It was maddening.”

Eddie laughs and wipes away the tears from Steve’s eyes, they fall faster when he smiles a weak and small but real thing.

“Adiel and I, we fit together; we were good together. But despite that, I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t know why, I think I still don’t, but… I don’t need to know. I just need feel it, Stevie. And I feel it. I want this. Me and you. You have throughly ruined me, for anybody else.”

This time the kiss is different. It’s shared elation, wet and salty on the tongue, and clumsy as they try to fit into each other. Disappear in one another.

“Are you still mad?”

Those brown eyes don’t resemble gems of green, but they’re filled with incredible warmth and Eddie sees home in them,

Sees a life with them,

It’s own kind of precious.

And he laughs.

“So much, Stevie. I’m mad and heartbroken and falling jn love and happy and so so sure of us. I think, I think I still need some time, I’m really fucked—no, no, shouldn’t cry anymore,” he says as Steve’s face scrunches and it’s so unbelievably cute if he wasn’t blaming himself for it all.

“I just want to make sure I do this right this time. And if I, if I invite you in… I won’t be able to.”

Steve rests his forehead against his, there is heat between them, “But I have you, right?”

“Yeah, took me a while to figure it out but… yeah. Yes. You have me, Steve. God, and I have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to come over and pick me up at 6 in the evening so we can eat shitty pancakes at the diner.

And then we’ll figure this out together.”

Part 3 <💛 End, thank you for reading and for all the feedback!

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Eleven: [The Man]

Summary: When Jake and Jensen go head to head over who means what yo you, things escalate to new heights, so much so that Jake lashes out and says something that may not be forgiven.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion. JEALOUS JAKE!

Word Count: 5.6K

Author Note: This chapter brings the total word count of this series to 50k....I cannot believe that an idea that began as a one-shot has turned into this. Thank you all so much for your support on this one. xxx

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

There was a brief moment right before your shower where Jake was able to step out into the hall to call his sister Jasmine. He knew the call he was about to make was going to be neither short, nor pleasant. But he also knew that deep down, you weren’t mentally prepared to tell your children you were sick. But the pair of you had to start somewhere. And that somewhere was Jake’s sister. 

“What the FUCK is going on!” One single ring. One dial. That's how long it took Jake's sister to answer, hell, Jake thought it would have been sooner but he gave her a little good grace for potentially having to step out of whatever family dynamic she found herself in. “Mum said Y/n’s sick?” 

“Did she say it like that?” Jake replied unamused as he found an empty chair to sit on in the waiting room area down the hall. He didn't want to stray too far away from your room. Although he knew that you were with the nurses, he couldn't find it inside himself to leave. If Jake tried hard enough, he could still see your bed socks at the end of your hospital bed. 

“Uh–” Jasmine's apprehensive silence confirmed all Jake needed to know. “She may have said it with a little hope in her chest, mentioned the words dropped and dead in the same sentence of wishful thinking.” Jake couldn’t say he was surprised after the way Janeen had spoken so poorly about you directly to his face. He couldn't really imagine what she’d been saying to other members of the Seresin family. “But what's going on? I'm keeping an eye on the kids as much as I can but holy shit mum's just on a warpath–” 

Fuck: Jake knew leaving the kids behind was a bad idea on his behalf. The guilt of running off on his children in the middle of the night was beginning to eat him alive. The idea of lying to them about your condition only made that guilt harder to rationalise. 

“Okay, can you just promise me you won’t tell the kids?” Jake groaned into the phone. “Y/n doesn't want them to worry so she doesn't want to say too much.” 

“Jake–” Jasmine's voice changed, the serious nature of the conversation at hand was beginning to shine through with ease. “She's alright, isn't she?” Jasmine asked as Jake let his elbows rest on top of his thighs. This whole situation, the newly found world of which you were living in was begging to give Jake the head spins. Keeping up was exhausting, but this wasn't about Jake now was it. “This is Y/n we’re talking about, she has to be alright.”

Unbeknownst to you, Jake had been reading all your files, all your reports, everything and anything he could get his hands on about your diagnosis. After all, he had been named your emergency contact not long after showing up. He’d made a convincing case. Jake knew a lot about your current situation. He knew the odds, chances, risks and possibilities. 

“She's been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” Jake explained to his sister who on the other end of the call, sat watching his youngest try to eat the sand from the sandpit Jake himself used to shit in as a child. “The oral chemo they had her started on caused a stroke, apparently it's a common side effect, to me they shouldn't be pumping people full of that crap if its gonna cause a fucking stroke forty percent of the time.” 

Jake knew the silence on the other end of the line was due to an overload of information getting caught in his sister's cerebellum. It was a lot to take in, hell Jake still hadn’t really been given an opportunity to take it all in. since he found out he’d been go go go. He knew an impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion was coming. When that moment would come he wasn't sure. 

“You’re lying–” Was all Jasmine said. Jake wished more than anything he could say he was. 

“Fucked up thing to lie about Jas–” Jake responded softly as he listened to the hustle and bustle of the hospital wing his sat in. “She hadn’t been feeling well for a few months, Doctors say it's aggressive, feeds off her hormones and stuff.” Jake didn't understand a lot of it, but he was trying his best to navigate a field he wasn't an excerpt in. “She's in for a preventative double mastectomy on Christmas Eve. It would've been earlier but the strokes kinda set her back a few days.” 

“Jake– I don't believe you, the kids–what about the kids, what do I tell them?” Jasmine couldn't comprehend the devastation this would cause on the already struggling family dynamic. You and Jake were meant to be, everyone knew that. But this whole separation, the miscommunication and overall fractures within your marriage were all major contributing factors as to why love just couldn’t be enough.

“Don't tell them anything, please, for the love of God Jas don't tell them anything, I just–” Jake let out a sigh of frustration as he ran his hand free hand through his hair. God he needed a haircut. “We just need a little time to process what's going on and Y/n–she's been doing this for too long on her own, I can’t keep letting her down so just, take a moment to breathe for me.” 

“Holy fuck you aren’t kidding about any of this are you?” Jasmine with all her good graces and problematic marital issues of her own, looked over at where her husband sat with hers and Jake's father. The sight was enough to send a shiver down her spine. The man who raised her was not someone who Jasmine ever wanted her brother to become. Losing your wife to such a disease that was as unforgiving as it was inhumane could potentially be an origin story bubbling under the surface of Jake's skin. 

“Jake–You don't get to turn into dad if this ends anything less than Y/n walking away from this cancer free Jake, your kids deserve to have a dad that won't treat them like burdens and mistakes.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Watch your step alright?” Our skulls are designed to cushion our brains. Our rib cages are specifically moulded to guard our hearts. The human body is built to protect our most vulnerable parts. At least, that’s how it’s supposed to work. 

The way in which Jake helped to guide you out of the bathroom with his hand pressed firmly against the small of your back made your heart skip a beat. You held tightly onto his forearm with one hand and in the other? Was your IV poll, still pumping you full of antibiotics and fluids. 

“I got it.” You tried to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. That's what this whole thing was about right? This battle, this fight. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other. With Jake by your side, albeit with some underlying resentment still to be discussed, you felt as though those steps, small but meaningful in their own right, were made with intent and purpose to keep fighting. “Shit the air-con feels so weird on my head.” You chuckled to yourself as Jake shut the bathroom door behind the both of you. 

“Yeah holy shit it's like–” As Jake's eyeline faltered from you to the figure standing over near the door, his heart sunk into his stomach. His face turned to stone as the green in his eyes, usually an emerald colour, darkened to something more pine-like. The half finished sentence that left your husband's mouth and tailed off into complete and utter silence was what got your attention the most. It wasn't like Jake to not say what was on his mind. 

“What's up?” As you turned your head slowly, you saw the man who had been nothing but a pillar of support for you to lean on since your diagnosis. It was the man who had kept you above water when you felt like you’d been drowning in a sea of unprecedented mortality. “Jensen–” The shock and excitement in your tone was something Jake couldn't miss no matter how much he wanted to. “You came?” 

Jake made no attempt to move as you shuffled forward, he stood still with his heart hammering inside his chest. He stood completely still as his thoughts carried him away into a world where nothing made sense to anyone. Into a world where he didn't have you, a world where for the last year he’d tasted of that very misery and hated every last second of it. 

“I uh–” Jensen held out the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies he’d brought for you. The overwhelming colours and signature scents captivated the entire room with their freshness. “I wanted to stop by, see how you were doing, hope I'm not intruding?” 

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk. 

“Oh no, no we just finished up some DIY haircuts.” You beamed, the smile that ignited across your face was a smile Jake hadn't seen in years. A smile so pure and full of love that it couldn't ever be faked. “Jake, this is Jensen.” You introduced the two men who had played significant roles in your life, having no clue that they had both already met one another in the hall. “We met at the doctors office, as unfortunate as that sounds, it's been really nice to have someone who just, knows.” Jake slowly but surely aided you over to your bed before he made his way over to where Jensen stood watching idly. Assessing the situation unfolding before him. “Jensen convinced me to go to a few of those CCA meetings, although not my cup of tea–it's nice to know that that support system is there.” 

Jake eyed Jensen and his bouquet of flowers off as he stepped closer and closer with a look Jensen couldn't quite read in his pine green eyes. The betrayal of love often has boundaries that people end up living with for the rest of their lives. For Jake, his betrayal and the consequences of his emotional ineptitude inside his marriage was starting to play out right before his very eyes. 

He saw the potential that there was in fact another man. And oh boy did he hate it. 

“And Jensen, this is Jake, my husband.” Jensen took subtle notice of the way you introduced Jake to him as your husband, not your ex-husband like you'd been referring to him as since the two of you first met. Something had changed, Jensen could sense it. But for as much as Jensen could sense the chemistry between you and Jake, Jake could see the way your eyes lit up with overjoyous surprise when you realised that the flowers Jensen held in his hand were in fact for you. “Are those, are those for me?” 

“Oh–yeah.” Jensen beamed as he walked a little further into your room. “I thought they might bring a little light into your room but it seems that you have it pretty well decorated.” It was the small nod to the Christmas lights that hung around your room that made you smile even brighter as Jake made his way back over and helped you into bed. You could tell there was tension brewing just from his quietness alone. “And the new haircut suits you, good thing you don't have a weird ass head huh?”

“Hey Jarred–” Jake interrupted before you had a chance to reply, the way he intentionally called Jensen by a different name rubbed you the wrong way. The frown that cast itself across your face left little to Jake's imagination, but as he made sure you were as comfortable as could be in your bed, he kept going. “Nows, probably not a good time–” 

Jensen looked around your room carefully, he knew the system well and what times were more common than not for nurses to do their daily rounds and check-ins. He knew that by the looks of things you had just showered and were probably settling in for the afternoon. If Jensen was correct in his assumption as he looked back towards where Jake stood at your bedside, he would assume that he couldn't have picked a better time to drop by. 

“Seems like a pretty good time to me man, besides, why don't we let Y/n here make that call.” Jensen replied calmly as he went about finding a place for your flowers to go. Jensen could have played the safe card, he could have chosen to be the bigger person and not mention it, but he didn't really have a hell of alot to lose. After all, he was a dead man walking. What was the harm in stirring the pot a little where he still could. “Honestly, I didn't expect you to be here if I'm being completely honest.” Jensen smirked as he turned back to face Jake. You felt like your heart was about to explode right through your chest as you looked back and forth between the two men who had seemingly gotten into a mines bigger than yours contest on either side of your bedside. “Didn't think you knew your wife was sick–” 

The silence was deafening as Jake thought about all the ways he could kill a man in one single motion. The rage he felt inside his chest was red hot jealousy. Jensen could practically see the steam spewing out of Jake's years. 

“What my wife decides to share with me has nothing to do with you–” Jake growled, you could just see the way he was grinding his teeth. Jake's jawline had never seemed more profound. His knuckles were almost entirely white as he leaned against the railing of your hospital bed. Lowered down for convenience of getting in and out. 

“It does when I’ve been the one listening to how much she wishes you loved her the same way she loves you.” Jensen shrugged. “Come on man, don't play this game, don't pretend that I don't know what been going on–” 

“Enough!” You couldn't have shouted it slider if you tried. “Both of you, my god we’re all supposed to be adults here?” You sighed as you looked at Jake and then over to Jensen. Something was off with him, this wasn't the Jensen you knew. He seemed off, very off. “Can you two just back up, let's start over.” However, it was a plea that fell on deaf ears.

Remember that impending moment of weakness mixed with overall exhaustion Jake mentioned earlier? Yeah– about that. Guess it was coming around the corner sooner rather than later. 

“Nah–” Jake shook his head as he let out a sigh. This was bullshit, you really had him fooled. He really did think that there was a possibility here that maybe, just maybe, the two of you could fix what he had unintentionally broken while focusing on your health. “Nah, I'm not gonna put up with this dickhead.” Jake hissed as unclenched his hands from the railing on your bed. “I'm gonna go get a coffee, try not to catch each other's cancer cells while I'm gone.” 

“Jake, don't leave!” You begged as you sat up a little straighter in your bed. “Please—“ The panic that followed was something otherworldly as you watched Jake round out of the hospital room that had become your home away from home. “Please!” 

Jensen was if anything, enraged. He hadn’t helped the situation but he never would have left your side after making a remark so thickly lacquered with jealousy. He didn't think Jake would react the way he did, so quick to make assumptions. The small gift Jensen still held in his hand was quickly placed on your bedside table. 

“I’ll go talk to him—“ Jensen pressed his lips together as he let his hand fall gently to your shoulder. “My fault, I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.” Jensen didn't pretend to not see how upset you truly were. He understood what it was like to feel the weight of the world crushing your spirit. “He didn't mean what he said Y/n.” 

“He did–” You sighed as you wiped away your tears. “He asked me when he came to take the kids to his mum's house if I was seeing anyone–” 

Ah, Jensen thought to himself as he stood by your bedside and listened. 

“He wants to get back together, fix what's broken, change.” You sighed as you looked over to the open door that Jake hadn't long before walked out of. “He probably thinks you're more than a friend.” In another life, perhaps Jensen could have been more than just a good friend. In another universe somewhere he hoped that maybe you never had this unforgiving disease. But this wasn't another reality, this was right now. 

“All the more reason to fight for his girl.” Jensen cooed as he leaned in to kiss the top of your now very smooth head. “I'll go talk to your husband.” 

You caught onto the not so subtle subtlety of the way Jensen teased that title. Husband. Jake Seresin was still very much your husband. He was the very definition of a man who was supposed to be at your side through thick and thin. But right now? You were doubting his ability to fully comprehend what was happening to you. Jake’s focus shouldn’t have been on Jensen and who he was to you. But yet you couldn’t not defend him. 

“He’s not a bad guy, he’s really not—“ There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room as Jensen chose to take in what you’d said. “This is all just so much for him to take in.” 

“You don’t need to explain your relationship to me.” Jensen wanted to say that if Jake was such an alright guy, then you wouldn’t have left. He wanted to remind you of all the conversations the two of you had had over the past few months. All the times you’d cried about the man who didn’t value your time, your energy, your love. “But a woman like you should never have to beg a man to stay.” 

“I left him.” You felt the need to remind the man who stood at your bedside with an ora surrounding him you didn’t recognise. “I stopped begging him to love me a long time ago and you know that.” 

Jensen could have thrown the fact you just called out after Jake back in your face, that you’d begged your husband not to leave. But he wasn’t that mean. He was just looking out for you. Someone had to. Someone had to make sure this Jake guy had his priorities in check and that you were at the very top of that list where you belonged. 

“I know—“ Jensen pressed his lips together into a fine line. “But that guy just walked out the second things got a little more complicated, what’s gonna stop him from throwing in the towel if your health declines more than it already has?” Jensen shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t being nasty. It was his version of tough love. 

“I’m sorry—“ You scoffed as your face contorted into that of a frown mixed with frustration. “Are you, are you testing Jake?” 

“Cancer is one of the world's most leading causes of divorce.” Jensen added like it was a statistic you should have known. He knew you knew it. “I just wanted to see how well he handled a little external pressure.” 

“You’re—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Jensen was smiling down at you from ear to ear. 

“A menace, I know, but I’m a menace that only has your best interest at heart.” Jensen explained as he sat down beside you for only a brief moment. “Your fight isn’t with Jake right now, he shouldn’t be fighting you or anyone else in your life that may come and go.” 

“Jensen—“ You knew Jensen hadn’t been well, but he hadn’t explicitly told you how bad it was. There was something in his eyes though, the way he looked at you like he was looking at you for the last time that had you worried. “What’s going on with you?” 

“I’m just making sure if you’re letting that man back into your life that he’s gonna stick around when things don’t go the way he wants them to.” Jensen smiled softly as he picked up your hand to bring towards his lips. He left a fleeting kiss upon the palm of your hand and let out a sigh he wasn’t aware he was holding in. “I’ll go track down your sook of a husband, make sure he’s aware that you’re hopelessly devoted or whatever you wanna call it.” 

“Please be nice—“ You pleaded gently as Jensen stood from your bedside. “Please.” 

“Anything for you Y/n.” Jensen replied, he knew that this would be the last time he ever saw you apart from in his own version of heaven. “Anything for you.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Jake Seresin had never been a fan of hospitals. That mentality first started when he broke his leg in kindergarten and needed a full cast, but it grew with him well into adulthood. Jake had never liked hospitals, even when all three of his children were born he still hated them. Not even the love he had for his children could override the hate he felt towards the sterile environment that gave far too many infections to people to be considered ‘normal’ 

“Seresin.” But Jake had never hated hospitals more than he did the second he heard his last name being called from just a short distance down the hall. Called by a man who Jake would happily like to never see again. “The hell is your problem?” Jake caught the sight of the man who’d brought you flowers coming right towards him with a fire burning in his eyes. The man you had kept somewhat a secret from Jake. Much like your diagnosis. 

“My problem is asking me what my problem is.” Jake groaned as he took a sip of his shitty ass hospital coffee. “Don’t you and my wife have things to talk about?” Jake asked as he took a few steps away from where Jensen had stopped in his tracks. “Things I’m not privy to as it seems? Like her health or new love life?” 

“You don’t even know who I am to your wife!” Jensen barked loud enough to have Jake stopping in the middle of the hall. The six foot something aviator turned slowly on his heels to give the almost matching in height bald dude the time of day he seemed to crave. “But I know all about you, because I’ve been there for Y/n while you’ve been busy playing part time parent across the country.” Jensen had nothing to lose, he was just a dying man who had no time left to cherish. 

Jake wasn’t about to stand here and take this. He didn’t need some guy who’d stepped into your life to tell him what to do. You were the mother of Jake’s children, you’d always be that to him regardless if he could fix what he broke. 

“Get out of my face before you need a plastics consult.” Jake growled through gritted teeth all the while Jensen grinned. He was standing his ground as Jake continued on his defensive. “Because so help me god, you may feel like god right now with your self-righteous heart and knight in shining armour attitude, but you sure as hell won’t feel all high and mighty when you meet him.” 

Jensen didn't want to fight with your husband, but he did want to make it known that time was forever fleeting, and if Jake kept going the way he was there would be no time left to fix what he broke. You needed someone to be there for you, Jake had to be that person. 

Because Jensen couldn’t be that guy for you anymore, he had no fight left to give you. He had no fight left in himself. 

“You know I sympathise with you Jake, I do, it must be hard being the guy who broke your own marriage to a woman who loves so fiercely and so much.” Jensen started as he let his elbows rest atop his sweatpants clad knees. “And now having to deal with the fact that said wife is dying must be a lot to work through.” 

Jake remained speechless as his eyes lingered down to the man who was almost out of breath from his walk through the halls. He held his half drunk coffee cup in his hand with enough rage coursing through his veins that Jake was actually surprised he hadn’t crushed the flimsy cardboard vessel. 

“But you know what the worst part of all that is? Is that your priority isn’t your wife, or fixing your marriage—“ Jensen continued on. “No, it’s on the guy who your wife chose to confide in when you were nowhere to be found.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake replied with a hiss in his tone that mimicked the deadliest of snakes. “I couldn’t give a shit who you are to her or what you want, because she’s my fucking wife—mine!” 

“And yet here you are arguing that point with me in the hall when you could be at her bedside appreciating all the small moments you’ll be lucky to look back on one day.” Jensen grew more heated as Jake took a few strides his way, towering over where Jensen sat. “You threw a fit the second I stepped into that room without using any critical thinking skills you aviators claim to have in the heat of the moment.” 

“She told me she wasn’t seeing anyone! Come to find out that that’s—“ Jake didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Jensen intervened that train of thought. 

“She’s not! You’re wife fucking love’s you!! She kept her prognosis from you because she was so scared you didn’t love her back enough to fucking care! And you’re hung up on the idea she’s seeing someone? Me!?” Jensen scoffed as he stood, the few strides he took towards Jake were made with intent behind every single one. Enough to have Jake stumbling back every so slightly. “Here’s a concept for you man.” Jensen pressed his index finger into Jake’s sternum. “Maybe, just maybe, if I was sleeping with your wife, she’d remember her worth.” 

“You really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake sighed, there was no way he was entertaining this delusion any more than he already had. “I think you should leave.” The idea of you being with another man sent Jake into a blind rage of jealousy that saw no reason. But at the end of the day, he was the one who walked out on you. He’d strayed too far from your hospital room and couldn’t see your bed socks anymore. 

Fuck….

“Maybe, maybe I should—“ Jensen agreed. “And hell I don’t even know you at all, but from what I’ve managed to piece together? it’s that you're a crap husband who doesn’t have the emotional capacity to handle the fact his wife could lose this battle.” Jensen retaliated with a stone cold expression. “But something I do know is that no amount of prayer or candles or begging will reverse time, so put your ego side and focus on the fact your wife needs you now more than ever before and if you leave her side the way you did today ever again, trust me when I say you’ll regret it every day of your life.” 

“Y/n isn’t dying—“ Much like Jensen was taking his fear of the unknown out on Jake, Jake was just about ready to let loose on the guy who was picking apart his very character. Sure, Jake recognised he wasn’t the best husband, but he also knew you weren’t dying. Not right now, not while he wasn’t by your side. 

“I wasn’t either, but as it turns out we all have an expiry date.” Jensen replied. The atmosphere and energy surrounding the two men who were going head to head suddenly shifted. “Some sooner than others, but we all have one, and when yours is up yours is up and there ain't nothing you can do you extend it.” 

“You’re—“ Jake couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

“A walking corpse.” Jensen finished the sentence he knew Jake was trying to speak into existence. Although he didn’t care to beat around the bush. “So trust me when I tell you that wishful thinking does shit when your body decides it’s had enough.” 

“Does Y/n know?” Jake's first worry was how this news, how this detrimental turn of events, would affect you. His heart forgot how to beat inside his chest when he watched Jensen shake his head in response. 

“She needs to focus on her own journey, and before I go I need to make sure she has a support system because for a while there I was all she seemed to have.” Jensen explained. There it was, the truth of the matter. 

Jake saw it clear as day, the care, the worry, the intention to make sure you had someone there for you because Jensen wasn’t going to be there anymore. You may not have slept with the guy standing before Jake but if Jake knew anything, it was the look of a man who was unequivocally in love with you. He saw his own reflection of Jensen's eyes. 

“Go back, apologies, and you fix your marriage man because that woman? That electrifying woman who sees the good in everything doesn’t deserve to go through this alone—and you turning your back on her the second someone made things a little difficult for you isn’t a good representation of the husband she deserves.” 

“You love her, don’t you?” Jake asked as he took a second to truly take in Jensens whole argument. The world seemed to go on around them, with doctors and nurses carrying out their daily duties and rounds. Family members walking to and from rooms visiting loved ones. But for Jake and Jensen? The world stopped when it came to you. “You’re in love with my wife, say it.” Jake couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Tell me you love her, then this all makes sense.” 

“Maybe—“ Jensen tried to play his love for you down into something that was just a social construct. “Maybe I love her, but I don’t get a chance to explore that, you do though.” Jensen was truly trying to hide the pain in his eyes, but Jake could see it all too easily. Jensen knew that. “So if not for yourself, for her, pull your head out of your ass man—“

“I never stopped loving her though.” Jake sighed out in frustration as he sat down on one of the plastic hospital chairs that lined the hallway. Jensen followed soon after, both men decided that the heat of the argument was settling into something more valuable. “I just—I lost sight of what I had.” 

“That’s just not a good enough excuse.” Jensen replied as he let his head fall back against the wall. “Listen, I don’t plan on coming back after I leave today.” 

Jake didn’t respond, he simply waited for Jensen to explain. But the explanation never came and Jake never pressed. If anything he was kind of relieved in a selfish way. 

“If you truly want to fix what’s broken, if you really want to fight for her and be by her side when she needs you the most, you’ll get up and you’ll go back in there and you’ll be the guy who gets to hold her like no one else does.” Jensen pauses momentarily before he continued on. “Because there’s better guys out there Jake, and she shouldn’t have to settle for one who doesn’t appreciate what’s right under his damn nose.” 

“Is this your way of telling me you’re a better man than me?” Jake asked cautiously, a part of him didn’t want the answer to be yes. But Jake needed to know what the man sitting beside him truly thought. You saw something good inside him, inside both of them.

“I’m not a better man than you Jake—“ Jensen sighed as he stood from his chair. It was getting late, he had said his peace, he had put the fear for a dying man inside Jake Seresin. There wasn’t much more Jensen could contribute to your life besides what he had already given. 

The body tends to adapt quickly to new circumstances and pressures it’s put under. It knows how to protect itself. But it can’t close off completely, or well—we’re not really living are we? Biology tends to override our fears, so we leave the door open, just a little…hoping like hell that it's worth the risk. But for Jensen….He was ready to close the door and lock it shut. 

“I’m just a man who’s run out of time and has nothing left to lose.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989

[hard-core-super-star]

she had the world [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x stark!reader

summary: your first meeting with the future inheritor of bishop security doesn't go as planned and, unfortunately for the two of you, first impressions matter.

warnings: none, i think; enemies-to-lovers vibe but in an accidental way aka kate's a well-intentioned idiot but her comments don't land well; i haven't watched the iron man films in years and this AU definitely doesn't fit the real MCU timeline but shhhhh, just roll with it

wordcount: 944

a/n: wrote this for my lovely 🧞‍♀️ anon who requested an expansion of this headcanon set. i was originally only going to just do another headcanon set but i decided to try my hand at writing a mini-fic. it's sort of a prologue for a longer fic i may or may not write at some point. i just love this little AU i accidentally created so...we'll see what happens. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This is ridiculous,” you grumble as you mess with the top button of your slightly wrinkled shirt. “If the owner of the company couldn’t bother to show up, why do I have to?”

Your comment makes Happy chuckle, although he’s quick to pull himself back together the second he catches sight of the glare Pepper throws his way.

“Listen, I know it’s not an ideal way to spend your night but it’s better than a long meeting with boring investors.”

“Tony wouldn’t show up to those either so my question still stands,” you counter.

This time, you’re the one on the receiving end of the blonde’s glare. She hates when you refer to your dad by his name despite the fact that he couldn’t care less what you call him as long as he’s able to stay in your good graces. Tony Stark has many flaws but he’s not the world’s worst father...even if every news outlet in the world tries to make it seem that way.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, y/n, but you’re going to be responsible for Stark Industries sooner or later. I’m only trying to help you here.” Her tone leaves no room for arguments so you don’t even try, you just look out the window until you reach your destination.

You’re not about to admit it but Pepper’s right. 

Tony has enough on his hands dealing with the aftermath of the Sokovia Accords to spend any time on Stark Industries. Especially when “spending time on '' is equal to going to awful parties and meeting the CEO of every new company that shows up.

Which is a lot harder than it seems considering the amount of “entrepreneurs” living in New York.

So, that means it’s up to you and Pepper to keep the family business afloat. You handle all the public appearances and she makes sure nothing goes wrong regarding the technical and economic side of things. Meanwhile, Tony spends his days fixing up his old Iron Man suits and trying not to let his guilt eat him alive. (He’s failing miserably but at least he still spends time with you)

You’re not happy about the situation you all find yourselves in but it’s not like you can do anything about it. 

Which is how you end up bored out of your mind at a stuffy party hosted by the owner and CEO of Bishop Security. You’ve heard the name in passing, mainly by a frustrated Pepper trying to deny suspicious meetings on your behalf. You don’t know much about Eleanor Bishop but you’ve heard her daughter’s name far too many times to act like you don’t know who they are.

Unfortunately, no amount of rumors could have prepared you for the reality of coming face-to-face with Kate Bishop.

You bump into her, literally, on your way to talk to Pepper in hopes of convincing her that having spent two hours at the party is enough. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” She instantly apologizes and any hope of appearing annoyed fades away instantly. “I, uh, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Her words leave your mind spinning so you reply without thinking, accidentally channeling the small pieces of Tony Stark that live within you. “Should I be worried about that?”

Kate blinks back her surprise at your tone. “I hope not. It’s just…you’re y/n Stark, right?”

There’s a certain amount of awe in her voice that should be flattering but you’ve been burned far too many times to fall for it. Even if her words are accompanied by a genuine smile.

“That depends on what you’re going to say next,” you say, settling somewhere between cautious and unwelcoming.

“Well, I’m sort of a really big fan of the Avengers.”

You hate how adorable she looks with those stupidly soft eyes and fidgeting hands. She might mean well but the Avengers are a sore spot for you and certainly not one you’re going to talk about with someone you don’t know. (Especially when she’s technically supposed to be your main competition)

“Save your breath, Bishop,” you reply with an almost inaudible sigh. “I don’t want to hear it.”

You attempt to walk away from her but she’s far too quick. Her hand reaches out to grasp your forearm and you do your best not to look affected by how strong her grip is. “Hold on, what are you talking about? I thought you were part of the team too.”

“That’s none of your business. Don’t you have something better to do? Maybe yet another girl you’ll ditch by the end of the week?” 

Your comment is a low blow and one that heavily relies on gossip forums dedicated to the brunette. Gossip forums that you merely visited due to curiosity and not because you saw one of Kate’s Instagram posts and immediately ran to check if she likes girls too. (Somehow the jury is still out according to most news outlets but her list of rumors is almost as long as your own)

She’s genuinely speechless after that and you don’t dare give her time to recover. You’re being an asshole, you’re aware of it, but there’s something about the way she looks at you that terrifies you. Something that tells you she already knows the secrets that lie unspoken in the depths of your mind. 

And you hate it.  

So you run.

You force your arm out of her grasp and walk away from her.

She doesn’t put up a fight this time, she merely watches you go with the distinct feeling deep in her gut that she messed up her one chance with you.

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different ( Joel Miller x reader ) part two

Summary : news of peaches arrival spreads through town , she gets a visit from the sheriff after her lawyer contacts him . little bye little peach is opening up to the new found friends of hers .

Warnings : mentions and allusions to past domestic abuse , learning to be free of the past , slow burn , no outbreak au

Wildfires didn’t spread as quickly as the news of Y/N arrival back to town, all they heard was about the run away and her family history all different versions of events where hushed like whispers  some stated she ran  because her mother made her , some  decided she was as bad as her father other just saw a scared kid but either way they all had an opinion on the matter . she notice when she would go into town whether it was for groceries ,  take out or even simple errand all eyes on her , mouths moving to their own agenda on the matter.  No one cared to hear the truth  and the truth wouldn’t of mattered not when their minds were already made it . she was starting to think it was bad idea , she felt suffocated under their view.

The miller brothers heard it all , they heard the whispers or out right warnings to stay away when it came to the life of y/n it was nothing but trouble or she brought trouble where ever she went. 

“ she ain’t trouble , she good girl who got caught in a shit storm that life threw her” maria said . the woman was good friends with Y/N’s mother grace , she seen it all from the teen girl with stars in her eyes to the broken one with no light in them at all . 

“ we know that , she nice i mean she shy as hell but she nice girl” tommy nodded along to his brothers words . she  didn’t interact much he chalked it down to wary of strangers and giving the horrendous past she suffered by her father he didn’t blame her one bit . 

“ smart girl two she used to drop by sunday morning to get the empty bottle and cans to recycle i realized she got money fer em but i didn’t mind saved me money on dumpster fees ” the bartender jimmy chuckled placing their drinks down . 

“ she was trying to save money so her and her mama could get new house poor thing” maria sighed sadly the whole thing still haunted her decade later it kept her up sometimes thinking what if she done something different. 

“ her dad still alive?” tommy asked. 

“ sadly yes although death would be too good fer um i hope he’s suffering til his last breathe for what he did” she shuddered . 

It wasn’t all bad being home she had few good people in her corner one being the sherif  , a pie in hand  from his wife . 

“ you look kid” he smiled softly maybe the guilt was eating at him for not helping sooner she presumed  why he was stood at her front door.  Wasn’t his fault he tried but he was only a deputy at the time one that no one gave time of day either. 

“ thanks for this it looks yummy i’ll share it with my pop when he comes by later” she said moving to the side letting him enter . “ it’s a mess just fixing it up” she explain as he  seen the boxes all about . 

“ no need to apologize at all , reason i’m here is because a lawyer got in contact with me yesterday about a restraining order transferring it to this state , are you in trouble?” he asked, arching his brow. Her tensing told him all he needed to know. 

“ figure Nathan would make sure things were legit , it’s just incase my ex husband shows up which he won't , he don’t know i’m here i wont cause no problem sherif” she began rambling her hands shaking to point she nearly dropped the pie . 

“ aint what i ask sweet girl , you in trouble?” he asked softer. 

“ you know that saying girls marry their father well  i proved that one right  i got divorced thinking that it would end but didn’t he followed me everywhere i went til my friends decided i needed to coming get away somewhere he would never find me , i never told him where i was from at first was cause i didn’t want him to pity me or see me as weak but i guess he already spotted that one like he sniffed it out, one night he was locked up  , they packed my stuff up gave me a car and told me to go as far away as possible  , nathan and his wife mia  , nathan got me the divorce , the restraining orders and everything” she sat tear falling down her cheeks , her heart hurting in her chest. 

“  He passed on some reports and pictures too , you need me  kid  , don’t matter if it's day or night you call me here’s my personal cell and home phone you can’t get me in station well you ring me here” he  patted her back . “ failed you before it ain’t happening again , i ain’t told anyone about this either  except my wife she never been one fer gossip” he smiled wiping her tear away. 

“ Thanks sherif” she sniffled. 

“ What can i do you for ron” john cleared his throat seeing the patrol car parked out front. 

“ it’s ok pop he’s just checking if i’m ok nathan contacted him” she stood. 

“ he’s not here is he”  her grandfathers eyes widened. 

“ nah but if he ever does be a sorry son of a bitch that’s for sure” sheriff shook his head. 

“ I made chili, would you like to stay for some” she called walking into the kitchen . 

“ you know what i think i will smell great ” he chuckled .

“ best chili in texas” her grandfather relaxed patting the  man on the back as they walked in only to see joel and tommy miller standing at her door worried. “ y’all want some chili” he asked . 

“ do they know?” he whispered.

“ know what?” joel asked as she  walked out . 

“ i’m on the run and sheriff here to collect his bounty” she joked . 

“ about her daddy , i’m sure towns folk told em” john lied . 

“ come on food will be cold by time your finish gossiping like sewing circle” she rolled her eyes  although she hating people lying for her some time it was easier  , less in the mess of her life  was the best.

“ yes ma’am “ the called in unison . 

What she didn’t know the one invitation seem to open to more , soon the millers or sherif aswell his wife would drop by more  and more.  The brother would help with her renovations when they could and she in turn would pay them in food although she was so close off she was opening up little bits . she stopped flinching at loud noises , stop giving them clearly fake reason to not help it was little victory both men and her grandfather were happy to see . 

Today they were painting the living room  her grandfather , miss benson and sheriff and his wife sat in the kitchen apparently they nagged too much so like kids were shift out of site til john here it  , the sound that had him almost knocking his chair to the floor  in the rush to the source. 

There she was running away from joel who chased her and tommy with a paint brush laughter coming from her mouth a sound he hasn’t heard in such along time it brought tears to his eyes as the other smiled fondly on . 

“ pop you ok” she stood worry lacing her feature. 

“ i’m fine peach , just good to see you happy” he smiled wiping his cheeks . 

“ well i hope they don’t act like this on the site” she laughed again as tommy stuck his tongue out at her. 

“ nah they’re worse” he chuckled heading her way not caring for her protests of paint all over her  hell he swim in a pool of paint for that smile he thought was lost forever . 

“ he’s gone so soft in his old age” miss benson teased . 

“I ain’t old” he shot back . 

“ young at heart” peach laughed louder. 

Part three

[simp-ly-writes]

In My Arms

Can be read as a standalone: In My Shadow (pt.4 - final)

Pairing: Commander Philip Graves x Shadow!Reader

Summary: Will Graves ever find you in his office and in his arms again or has karma finally come for men like Philip?

Warnings: Some canon divergence.

A/N: ...so its been awhile...

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

Everyone refused to talk to their commander as he stormed off the plane and slammed the door to his office. Throwing off his helmet, it rolled around on the floor before he screamed in frustration. "So close to achieving perfection- and this is what I get dished," he voices out into the room in a bitter tone before clearing his desk to the floor and pulling out another map from storage.

Phoning up an old friend, Alejandro. "I need you to pay that favour now- my friend."

"And of is this?" the leader of Los Vaqueros replied with a slight laughter-filled tone."

"A significant member of my company has been stolen."

"You should have started with that."

--

↳ Your fellow brothers and sisters work hard with Graves in order to track you down while receiving their fare share of threatening determination of their position. Everyone knew better on base than to come in between him and his mission of you at the current moment 

↳ Philip has lost all of his patience as he works through night and day, gaining support through many of his past military friends throughout the world alongside private organizations. It was all hands on deck as his office became a downright wreck, he winced at the scene he stood in, knowing just how disappointed you would be in both the appearance of himself and of the room

↳ The commander looked worse for wear, he had not shaved in weeks, his hair lacking the usual styling he implemented alongside wearing black all day and night regardless of it being a civilian outing or uniform attire. Bags underneath his eyes while his hands shook by the caffeine intake in his system, he took multiple over-the-sea calls to Laswell and her team that was no less as scrambled than his own.

↳ 141 had yet to report back though from the remaining footage they had in system memories, they should have made it out just in time, cursing out Graves begins to pray. Pray that when he finds you again, you are breathing. Prays that you would forgive him for not being able to find you sooner, and forgive him for even placing you on the mission in the first place. He grabs at his hair, guilt eating him alive for being too confident, too cocky as many others countlessly reminded him- it appeared that karma was finally catching up to the commander and he was distraught. 

↳ An low ranking officer stumbles into the room, sibling the lukewarm coffee they were meant to deliver all over themselves as a stream of swears comes pouring out their mouth. Graves still requests the drink forward as he downs it, reaching around his desk for a smoke as he signals the officer to leave him be. Looking through the maps of the surrounding area, he curses out, nothing seems to add up

↳ It would be another week until a grain feel, filled with just the small dose of information the intelligence teams so desperately needed. The drug smuggling organization had a nearby headquarters underground in the sewage treatment system as Graves winced at the pictures that Laswells team had received as Alejandro mumbled down the line all the information he knew about this organization 

↳ Finally in what would be reaching a month, the teams were ready to be deployed and Graves was trigger happy. Thirsting for revenge as he slips his loves on and straps his helmet to his head, with one final nod, the doors of the trucks opened and boots flooded the scene. 

↳ Screams, blood, and gore flooded Graves senses yet he was all familiar with these horrors as he relentlessly scanned room after room for signs of life, for signs of you. The sound of chocking had Graves spriting as a few other shadows nearby came to join the attack. Bursting into the room, the assistant shadows cleared the guards as Graves had you down his sights. A man held you by the neck with his belt. Ou feet scraping against the floor, trying to flee as your face grew red- lacking oxygen. 

↳ Your eyes screamed for help to your commander, your tears pleaded as Philip took a singular breath and pulled the trigger. You closed your eyes awaiting the sweet release of death to only find yourself taking laboured breaths as arms wrapped around your finger, pulling you into a tactical vest as you gripped each of the compartments for support. 

↳ Your ears were ringing from the adrenaline of it all, not being able to hear your commanders demands for your current health. A small smile found its way across your lips as you were being carried into the back of a medical evacuation vehicle, a gloved hand squeezing your own as you pulled his hand into your lap. His eyes wide as his body soon fell closer to you and his breath hitched when your lips connected to his own. You whispered a thank you against them soon after as he stumbled for apologies for you only to smother each and every one of them 

↳ When returning back to base, 141 members fully recovered from their own tortures made joking comments on your relationship with a certain commander on how it took you both almost dying to admit you loved one another, completely and wholeheartedly. You refused to not continue working at the company much to Graves protests yet found even ground when becoming the COO beside him on the board and taking a more strategic position staying back on base. 

↳ Your engagement didn’t come a moment later as Graves panicked in wanting to have enough time with you before the chance of another series of events happening like this to either of you. The ceremony was grand, friends and family being thrown into a fully-rented out ranch where you danced under the stars together, held a few too many drinks and woke up with breakfast in bed the morning after

↳ Looking at your hand to the wedding band seemingly out of place in your black uniform, you couldn't help but chuckle on how a simple email had landed you here as arms wrap themselves around your waist, stubble ticking its way up your neck as they smile into a kiss. “I love you,” Philip states while looking at you in the mirror, looking up from his hands at at him too you whisper the same, heart beating rapidly at the sight of his eyes crinkling from the soft words shared just as a colonel comes running in with a folder filled with new contracts and heads to roll on the floor.

In my Shadow Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) you are here

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Eco

Chapter Eleven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Bela, Dick Roman and Kobe Bryant mentioned (look, he wasn't supposed to be here but I did my research and well, he had to be), Anael, faceless paps

Word Count: 1683 with pictures

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, tour planning, brunch and shopping with Bela, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

“Okay, well the official schedule from the touring company arrived, so I have maybe a week to set up the promo interviews before they announce it publicly,” you said over the phone.

“Yeah, with Crowley it’s probably gonna be sooner. Annie’s gotta find someone to step in for the whole year with this so she’s already interviewing. Let me know if you need anything, because I’m just sitting on my hands until we’re actually rolling out,” Bobby replied solemnly.

The give me something to do, please, was implied.

“Check with Benny and his boys, I know the label is supplying some guys too, but I trust you to secure the crew and security schedules,” you said as you made another note on your ever increasing list of to do’s.

Two months may have seemed like a long time, but it was the shortest turn around you’d had for a tour since taking over as publicist for Phantom Traveler and you’d be damned if you fucked it up.

“With the holidays coming up, we’ll be in a pinch to get everything nailed down. But all the commotion with Bela and everything, people will be chomping at the bit to get actual news,” you added, staring unfocused at your computer monitor.

“And he’s got that interview coming up you said, just Dean for that one?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I really hope Meg doesn’t eat him alive. But it’s his chance to give his side of things and for people to see where his head is at now.”

“The sassy little brunette, right?”

“The very one.”

“Is it going to be a tit-for-tat thing? Is Cas gonna be next for a tell-all?”

“Bobby, I don’t think Cas would do an interview and talk bad about Dean even if they paid him. He’s moved on.”

“If you say so, Dean didn’t exactly play nice.”

“He must have had hundreds of offers for the dirt since leaving the band. And everything I hear about him now is just about the kid he’s working with and how they’re creating something unique.”

“I just know how that reporter liked him— the last time.”

“I’m sure she’s going in with the bias against Dean here. Time will tell if she can be swayed,” you admitted. “Plus, Dean won't be alone. We made sure there'll be a few of us there to make it easier.”

“To keep him from making a damned fool of himself you mean.”

“Basically.”

Bobby sat on the other end of the line with his gruff silence before continuing, “you going home for Christmas?”

“Yeah, got the usual stuff with my folks for Christmas Eve then I’m helping Ellen on Christmas day. I’m flying so I won’t be gone more than a few days. Probably end up spending half of it at airports with my luck.”

“Okay, just checkin’.”

“You guys have any plans?”

“Just service on the night before and maybe something with Annie’s cousins. Might just be a train of open houses.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I’d enjoy myself.”

You laughed and wrapped it up with a promise to touch base before you left town. The next two days were a whirlwind of emails and phone calls. You put off confirming brunch with Bela for Sunday, but relented from guilt, as she now had regular visits from paparazzi outside her townhouse due to her and Dean’s night club-hopping. You finished up your Saturday errands and plopped yourself onto your stationary bike in a last ditch effort to fend off your restlessness until it was a reasonable enough time to crash.

God, your life was so exciting.

Bela poured you another glass from the endless pitcher of mimosas. “Anyway, I guess Dean got us tickets to the Lakers’ game tomorrow night, like I actually care about baseball.”

“Basketball,” you corrected, taking a sip.

“Exactly,” Bela smirked.

“How good are the tickets? He doesn’t really follow it either,” you continued, worried they’d be in an embarrassing section.

“I think he said something about getting the label’s box for the game?” She tried to play innocent.

You almost spit out your drink. “The entire box?”

“It’s not floor seats’ exposure, but it will be worth it at least. I think he said he called in a favor with Dick?”

“Dick Roman is giving Dean access to his exclusive luxury box at the Staples Center?” You were floored, you opened your phone and googled who they were playing. “Holy fuck, they’re retiring Kobe’s number tomorrow. It’s going to be insane. There’s no way that box isn’t gonna be packed, but at least you can bump elbows with the uppity ups.”

“Kobe Bryant, yeah? He was quite prolific,” Bela seemed pleased. 

“Uh, yeah, played his whole career here,” you added, but put your phone away. Unwilling to text Dean a ‘wtf’ text while you still had another hour of drinks and foodstuffs to get through. “What are you going to wear?”

Bela slid her most compelling face on. “I was hoping we could find something together. It’s been ages since we drunk shopped. Plus, it’s the holidays so I will need to be a bit tipsy if I want to deal with the crowds.”

You had literally nothing left to buy for Christmas, but drunk shopping was a time-honored tradition between the two of you. Plus, it was fun watching Bela work her magic and pull a stunning outfit together out of seemingly discordant pieces.

“Three stores and I’m getting my own ride home, missy,” you warned with a firm pointer finger.

“Of course!” Bela chuckled and tucked into her eggs, eyes flitting back to you with conspiratorial delight.

You finished off your mimosa and finally saw to your french toast.

Bela’s driver took you to all of her favorite haunts and naturally she weaseled her way in to see the best stylists, at least those who were actually on hand on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. At Sister Jo’s boutique, the owner herself greeted Bela with a double cheek kiss and hug. 

“What are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me, you need an outfit asap because your little rocker boy toy needs arm candy,” the woman, who was actually named Anael, teased.

“You know me too well,” Bela replied. “This is my dear friend, Y/N, and we’re a bit on the tilt from brunch, but I simply had to come see you. I need something casual and sexy. It’s for a basketball game.”

You waved as she nodded in your direction, not wanting to break the momentum.

Anael frowned and looked Bela over, with much consideration. Then she hummed before asking, “how do you feel about hats?”

Nearly two hours and a top off on champagne later (to keep your buzzes going), you and Bela walked out of the shop with a bag each and a receipt ensuring Bela would be back in the morning for the alterations on the remaining garments.  

“Well, I’d say that was a successful outing,” Bela said with pride, the pink in her cheeks the only hint of her lingering inebriation.

“I’d say,” you agreed, opening the back door of her pre-ordered ride. “I still can’t believe they had something that would work for me for New Year’s.”

Bela waited on the curb until she could slide in the other side, but continued your trail of thought. “Anael is good people, if she likes something, she carries it. Doesn’t matter the size or price, she is all about how an outfit makes you feel,” Bela explained.

“Well, it worked, because I just spent more on myself than I have the entire year because of how good it felt on, so I get it,” you said, patting the bag at your feet.

Bela confirmed your address with the driver and then hers, thanking them for going out of their way in a way that she wasn’t actually apologizing for being a burden.

“You got eyes on you lady,” the driver warned, pointing towards the corner where a camera lens was trained on the car.

“Ignore them, they’ll find someone else before they follow us very far,” Bela promised and you could see her almost glaring at the rearview mirror for the driver to get the lead out.

You sat on the couch in your robe and sleep pants, hair still wet and wrapped on top of your head. You had crashed for a late afternoon nap after shopping and had rebounded with a blissfully long shower and skincare treatment. Now you watched mind numbing television and plotted out your schedule for the coming week. Even though it was cut short with holiday travels, it was full-to-bursting with things to get done.

You sighed and dragged out your suitcase from under your bed, dropped it on the couch and unzipped it to start packing. At least you could watch something while you organized. 

Just after ten your phone buzzed with a text message. You ignored it for a minute until you could find the remote beneath your pile of socks and paused your Lord of the Rings rewatch.

You stared at the conversation with the movie still paused, dumbfounded. One, that Dean sent you a goodnight text of all things and secondly that he was going to willingly give Bela his phone to post on social media about them. Because it’s not official until they’re both posting each other, or so they say. This was going to be big for the fan girls. You already knew Becky would be emailing you the second she saw it. But as far as fanclub presidents went, she wasn’t the worst. Then again, she would be more than a little bitter if Sam and Madison were the ones flaunting their relationship.

You put a reminder in your calendar to cover an extra sweep of SM while you were waiting out Dean’s interview Tuesday morning and then you tossed your phone back amongst your clothes. You were done for the night and so you shoved your half-packed suitcase on the floor and restarted the movie.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twelve: Hook

[hughiecampbelle]

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 2

A/N: This I'd solely based on this fic, which I am in love with :) I ran out of room on the first part and had much more to say lol

Warning: addiction/addiction mention, abuse/neglect

Being The Youngest Roy Would Include: Pt. 1

Waking up at random underground bars, clubs, random streets in the city not knowing where you were or how you got there. It was definitely scary at times, but you were too numb to care

No one carded you, fearing your name more than your safety

Whenever you were hungover, you could hide away in your own bathroom on your own floor of the house, not that your father went looking for you or would seek you out very often, if at all

Everyone in that house knew. Everyone knew and they said nothing. When you got sick all over your clothes, reeking of a seedy bar or covered in glitter from clubbing, a fresh pair would magically show up folded on your bed. When your nose bled from the drugs and you used a white towel, a fresh one would be replaced in no time

You always believed you were being careful, that nothing bad would happen. You thought you were holding up the charade, and in some cases you were. Logan never said anything to you, about anything. As long you showed up and did as you were told, he didn't really care what you did outside of that

A few times you'd overdosed. Purely on accident, in your room, at the bars, at a party. A few times you woke up in the hospital, the closest one, but no one ever showed up. Even when you collapsed in your own home, your father was too busy in his meeting to pick up. Your mother was your emergency contact and she rarely picked up, too. Doctors knew who you were and that was enough to silence them, for better or for worse

It was easier to pretend this problem didn't exist. Like everything, your father ignored it, swept it under the rug

It wasn't until you called your father for help, drunk, high, crying and scared, unsure of where you were in the middle of the night did he reach out to someone, angry you woke him up, getting your brother to come find you. Your last attempt at seeking his love, his care, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to think he'd care in the first place

Connor dropped everything and got to you, seeing just how fragile and lost you really were for the first time. You could barely keep your eyes open. That scared him to death

It took a lot longer than they'd like to admit to realize you had a problem, that this wasn't just the occasional drink

Connor was the first to suggest an intervention. The rest followed, unsure of what to do, ashamed they hadn't seen any of this sooner

Coming off a high left you feeling low, helpless, and now embarrassed your big brother had seen you in that state. It wouldn't be the last time you'd go to rehab, but it would be the first

The anger came back though, it always did, and with nothing to soften the blow you took it out on yourself, on others. Your siblings were the first targets and no matter how many times you apologize, the guilt eats you up alive. Accusing them of not caring about you, of not noticing. In one particular dark moment you even accuse Roman and Kendall in aiding you in your addictions in the beginning, neither of them knowing. Kendall tries to tell Rome it's not his fault, coming to his baby brothers aid. If you could take one thing back, it would have been that. The look on their faces still haunts you

"Rome, I'm so sorry. I should never have-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I know, okay? I know."

You try getting clean on your own, something your sister makes it known she's against, but there's nothing she can do. When you can't get into places, when they refuse to have you again, you do it by yourself, mostly at Connors ranch. It's secluded, far away from your father. Once you stayed at Kens, a few times with Shiv, but you liked being at Con's the most. It's a mess and really you should be somewhere with professionals, but it's only for when you slip up, for when things are mostly stable, if that can even be measured

In the end, rehab is where you end up. More than a few times. When you get your phone back, one of them always makes sure to pick up your weekly call, even when you talk about nothing, like with Roman

You still thank Connor for picking you up that night

"Don't worry about it, I was happy to."

Being in your fathers presence is a major trigger. You try to stay with your mother for a few weeks, but she always grows uneasy with you around. She doesn't believe in your addictions, in any of your problems. She sends you back to Logan without a second thought, thinking you and your siblings are blowing things out of proportion

You got your own place, somewhere free of association from all those terrible years, all that sickness. You invite your brothers and sister often, trying to make it up to them every single day

You've been clean from everything for a year. Connor couldn't be more proud. Everyday you fear you'll go back to the old you and every day you find a reason, no matter how small, not to. Most of the time it's for your brothers and sister. All the shit you put them through, everything they've done for you, all the times they picked you up from rock bottom, it's the least you could do for them

Kendall still sneaks you candy, one of the last vices you can truly indulge in. Your favorite from when you were a kid. He doesn't hold anything you say against you, knowing what that mindset is like. When you feel yourself slipping, you turn to him. You don't always have to say it, sometimes he just knows, he understands

Shiv still helps you out. Straightens your hair, fixes your collar, doing some damage control with the public when they've turned the story on you, looking after you in those small, significant ways like when you were little. She and Con are the ones to ask if you're okay, if you need a place to stay for a few days, anything at all. Sometimes you even take them up on their offers

You and Roman are closer now, too. He seeks you out at events, hugging you harder than anyone else. He's always kissing your head, holding you close. His comments remain snarky, but for you, self-aware. Nothing that goes too far. He'd always got a glass of sparkling water ready for you so you don't have to go near the bar. What you said hurt him beyond words, but he also knows that was the detoxing you speaking, not the real you. Still, he checks how much is in his glass now, trying to make up for the past

Connor is still the only good father figure in the world. Every year you send him a card for fathers day, writing the same long winded note as a thank you to him. He pretends they don't mean the world to him, but he's got each one in a box under his bed. They make him feel so, so loved

It's not easy. It never will be. You still have to see Logan, talk to him, pretend there's anything left of your relationship. God only knows what story he's spun for Marcia. But it gets more bearable knowing you have people on your side now, that Connor, Kendall, Shiv, and Roman all have your back no matter what. You're their baby sibling after all

[roping-riding-wrangling]

Eyes Without A Face

Previous

Alone in his car, you listen to the sounds of the Clash. “This,” Jonathan nods towards the radio, “was Will’s favorite song?”

“Is” you correct him. “Will’s still alive.”

Jonathan huffs out a gentle, “yeah.”

“Anyway, really? He's like 11, I’m surprised his favorite song isn’t Rainbow Connection or something.”

Jonathan has a faraway look in his eyes, one that tells you he’s not really paying attention to your attempts to cheer him up. “Jonathan,” you begin, “I’m serious. He’s gonna be okay.”

Summary: Y/n and Bob finally talk, Jon and Y/n go casket shopping and run into a familiar face

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: Newby!reader, swearing, signs of depression/dissociation, anxiety, mentions of death (including child death)

Its the first morning this week that you haven’t felt deeply exhausted when you wake up. Despite the fact that you wake up in yesterday’s clothes, you can’t deny how rested you feel. Of course, coffee is still a necessity. 

You walk out to the kitchen and are surprised to find your dad already sitting at the table. A full mug waits for you. You give him a soft smile and a “thanks” before taking a seat and sipping on your mug. Your dad must have been up for a while, the coffee is already cooled to a drinkable temperature. 

“Buddy, I think we need to talk.” Your dad says after a few beats of silence. 

Your shoulders slump with the weight of the conversation yet to happen. 

“I’m worried about you. You nearly passed out yesterday. I couldn’t really understand most of what you said last night, but I want to know what's going on to make you this upset. It’s clearly more than Benny’s passing. Please, just tell me whats wrong.”

You take a breath, deciding how to explain everything to your dad. “You uh, know how I don’t really bring any friends over. Its cause I can count them on one hand. You,” you put up a finger, “Benny,” a second finger rises, “and Jonathan” three fingers for three friends. 

“What about the girls on the team?”

“We’re teammates, not friends. Anyways, as of yesterday a third of my friends is dead. And for some inexplicable reason, he killed himself. Benny, happy Benny, shot himself. And I was one of the last people to see him. That night…a kid showed up in the kitchen. A runaway, I think. Anyways, I offered to stay in the diner to keep an eye on her and Benny let me go home. I keep going back to that night. I keep replaying it in my head on loop. And I keep wondering…If I had stayed maybe–maybe he’d still be here. And then there's the whole Jonathan thing…His kid brother has been missing since Sunday night. I was with Jonathan that night. He came into the diner right before close and I let him stay late. Thats probably when Will went missing. If I’d just–”

Your dad set his hand on your clenched fist.

“If I had just made him go home, Will might not be lost, or it would've been noticed sooner or something. I just…I keep letting things happen.”

“Letting things happen?”

“You know, not doing anything. I just…I feel so passive and I feel like lately its been having consequences.”

“Then don’t be passive.”

“What?”

“Well, if you think that being passive is causing trouble, then start taking action.”

You think back to yesterday’s events. You, paralyzed to act, as Jonathan’s camera is destroyed. You think back farther, to not saying anything when Ms Henderson didn’t notice the song until you were seconds away from snapping. Not stopping your dad as he left you alone. Agreeing to leave Eleven and Benny. Letting Jonathan stay late at the diner. 

The guilt eats you alive. Your entire life, you’ve done things because it was easier than fighting. You joined volleyball because your middle school teacher had asked you to. You worked at Benny’s because he needed a hand taking orders. You didn’t even put up a fight when your mom left. 

“I don’t think I know how.”

“So we’ll start small. You’ll take a day for yourself. I’ll stay home with you and you’ll tell me how today is going to go. Every step of the day is your choice, not mine, not anyone else’s. your’s”

Even now you can’t seem to say no to your dad. 

“...okay”

“So what’s first?”

“Can you call my coach? I don’t want her to think I’m skipping for anything dumb. And,” you pause, gauging his reaction, “can I go back to sleep for a bit?”

“Of course, buddy. I love you.”

“I love you too dad.”

You slowly head back to your room

You don’t sleep. Instead, you sit on the floor, back against the door. You sift through your music collection. None of it sounds appealing. One album stands out amongst the others: Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell. You’d been listening to it on Sunday. Sunday feels like it was years ago

You turn the cassette over in your hands. It was borrowed from Jonathan last week, but you’d yet to return it. You gently remove it from the case and put it in your walkman. sticking the headphones on yourself, you fall into the memory of him lending it to you,

It was another slow, late night at the diner. Benny was doing inventory in the back while you were up front, chatting with Jonathan, the lone patron of the diner. 

“What is this?” you asked, the station he’d changed the radio to was playing an unfamiliar tune. 

“The Talking Heads,” he answered, “you like ‘em?”

“I don’t know. It sounds kinda weird.”

“Yeah,” he laughed lightly, “that's kinda the point. They’re not conforming to the general population’s perception of good music.”

You frowned, “So I’m the general population?”

Jonathan looked at you plainly, “I mean…yeah. I’m sorry, but every time I come in here it's either Kenny Rogers, or Dolly Parton, or Glen Campbell.”

“That's not all I listen to. It’s just that Benny likes it and it's literally his diner,” you respond, “there’s plenty of other stuff I like–like Elton John! And Simon and Garfunkel and Linda Rondstadt and David Bowie and–”

“Okay okay! I get it” he said throwing his hands up in surrender, but you weren’t done

“The Police and Billy Idol–”

“Wait,” he interrupted again, “You like Billy Idol?”

That gave you pause. “Uh…I mean, yeah, he’s cool.”

“Have you listened to Rebel Yell?” he asked excitedly.

“Oh no,” you replied awkwardly, “I uh, haven’t managed to get my hands on it.”

“Here!” He materialized the cassette from somewhere within his bag, “you can borrow this.”

“Oh,” you were shocked. You wouldn’t have expected him to give over the tape that readily. You’d pegged him as the type to keep his music to himself. He prided himself on his superior taste, whereas your taste was too eclectic for you to be pretentious about it 

“Thanks!” 

You really had meant to just listen to it once and return it, but it kept poking out from your bag while you did your homework. You listened to it again the next day on your drive, and again while jogging. Jonathan never asked for it back, and you never brought it up either. 

The tape stopping pulls you from your reverie. You yank the headphones off and stick the walkman back in your bag. 

You put the box of cassettes up and crawled into bed. The fan blows air at the windows, moving your curtains. Every so often, you caught a glimpse of the outside. The sky is gray, casting a sad shadow over the trees in your yard. You pull the curtains back even more, resting your cheek against the cool glass. Every so often, a car passes by. The wind knocks down leaves from the trees. When you breathe, the glass fogs up. 

You flop back on the bed, no longer feeling tired. No longer feeling anything. There's nothing left to feel. You recognize the emptiness. It's a comfort that you’ve often turned to. Shutting yourself out and going on autopilot. You know exactly how to act so that everyone thinks you’re fine, but the reality is that your smiles don’t go all the way and your laughs are a hollow ringing in your own ears. 

You haven’t had to shut down in a while. You forgot how nice the nothingness is. 

You don’t sleep, but laying in your bed with nothing but the fan and the gentle noises from outside feels good. You finally rise from your bed, your stomach grumbling from negligence. You quietly open your door. The floor is cold against your unsocked feet. 

“Hey buddy, feeling better?” Your dad asks from his spot on the couch, where he is watching reruns of MASH. You nod at him and give him a smile. “What’s next on the agenda?” his answer comes in the form of your stomach growling. You both laugh, but his is louder. "Could we go get some food in town?” you ask him.

“You got it, what’ll it be?” 

“I could go for some pizza,” you shrug.

You grab your bag and hop in his car. You watch from the passenger seat as the trees fly by and begin to fade into the familiar buildings of downtown Hawkins. He pulls into his parking spot behind the Radio Shack and ducks around the car to open the door for you. “After you,” he says, a goofy grin on his face. 

The walk to the pizza place is short and your dad rambles about a radio he donated to the middle school AV club the whole time. You recall him mentioning how he started the club in his youth. He speaks vigorously and you have trouble understanding everything he means, but its sweet how passionate he is about it. Its one of the things you admire most about the man. When he loves something, he loves it truly and deeply. 

He once again opens the door for you when you arrive. You claim a table while he puts your order in at the counter. He returns with a flag with the number eleven on it. The reminder of the sweet little girl gives your heart a twinge, and you quickly let the numbness consume it. 

“Scott was telling me how excited all the boys were on Monday when they saw it. Did you know the Henderson kid is in the club?” he asks you.

“No, I didn’t. Good for him,” you answer. 

“Yeah...speaking of clubs, how's volleyball going?” it's clear he’s trying to make conversation.

You know that your dad needs this. He needs to know that you’re okay, that you’re not slipping away from him, that he’s doing his job as a dad correctly. You could never deny him this kindness, so you fill the void of silence, “It’s going pretty well. Coach wants me to try libero, since Casey’s graduating next year, but I think I’m better as a setter. We’ll see.”

A server comes with a tray of pizza for your table. Your dad continues to ask you about volleyball, school, anything to keep you talking. You play along and answer his questions while eating. 

After three slices, you have to make the choice of eating another. You decide not to make yourself sick and have your dad flag down the server to ask for a to go box. 

Again he opens the door for you on the way out. The pizza settles in your stomach and you feel some of the sluggishness from the morning begin to wear. Your dad tucks his arm around you in the walk back and you huddle closer, grateful for the warmth he radiates. 

Across the street, you see a familiar figure and are reminded of the cassette you’d stashed in your bag earlier. “Hey dad,” you pull yourself from his arm, “I’m gonna go say hi to Jonathan.”

“Okay, I’ll be in the shack.”

He departs for his store as you head across the street. As you approach the boy, you can tell something is wrong.

“Jonathan,” you call out to him as you jog to catch up. He is hunched over and when he finally looks up at you his brows are furrowed and his eyes are bloodshot. “Jonathan?” you say again, softer this time.

“Will died” he spits the words from his mouth like they're venom. You blink slowly, letting the emptiness that resides within you absorb this information. The cassette is all but forgotten as you gently pull him into a hug. He barely hangs onto you, but you can feel how he shakes. 

Still holding onto him you glance around then ask, “Where’s your mom?”

He grips you tighter at that, “She’s convinced he’s alive, that he’s living in our walls. She thinks he’s being hunted by a monster. But I just–I just came from the morgue. Y/n, his body was so small.”

He hiccups and you squeeze him, “Jonathan, I’m so sorry.”

You pull away, letting him wipe the tears from his face with his sleeves. He hiccups again again and you rub his back in slow, small circles as he catches his breath. He needs this, his mother is gone so there is no one to comfort the boy. You'll be that pillar for him, a shoulder for him to cry on. "What are you gonna do?" you ask.

“I have to plan his funeral…pick out a coffin.” he says slowly, as if he's just now realizing what he needs to do.

He collapses back onto your shoulder, just like on Tuesday night. Except on Tuesday, he still had hope. Now, the despair rolls off him in waves. He is in no position to make decisions by himself. 

Your dad’s words from this morning echo in your mind and you decide this will not be something you just let happen again. You can use your emotionless state to help him–so you do. 

“Do you want some company?”

He nods sadly against your shoulder and very subtly tries to wipe his tears before he picks his head back up. You hold out your elbow for him and he holds onto it. You lead him to the funeral home. 

“I’m gonna call my dad real quick, will you be okay for a minute?” you ask outside, eyeing the payphone. He nods quietly and you fish out the correct change from your bag. You dial the number to the Radio Shack and wait as rings thrice before your dad’s familiar voice greets you.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Hawkins Radio Shack, this is Bob, how can I help you?”

“Hey dad, its Y/n.”

“Buddy, where are you?”

“I’m at the funeral home…Jonathan’s brother died. I’m gonna make sure he’s not alone right now. I wanted to let you know.”

“Oh no, poor kid. You’re doing the right thing, Y/n. You’re a good friend. I love you and I’m proud of you. Let the Byers know that I’m thinking of them.”

“Will do. I love you too, dad.”

You hang up and head inside to Jonathan, who is already talking to a salesman. You hear him discuss a walnut casket as you sidle up Jonathan and place a gentle hand on his arm to alert him to your presence. 

“Now, I don’t know what your budget is,” the man says softly, “but over here we have  copper and bronze.” the pair of you silently follow him to the other caskets. Jonathan stops and you look past him to see Nancy in the door. She looks like she wants to talk. “Could we just have a minute?” you ask the salesman and he gives you an understanding nod. 

You approach the timid girl. She looks up at Jonathan and says, “Your mom, she said you’d be here. I just,” you prepare to hear her offer condolences but she surprises you. “Can we talk for a second?”

You follow the girl out into the hall and stand over Jonathan’s shoulder as the pair sit on a bench. Nancy pulls out the taped-back-together photos from yesterday. “I noticed something behind Barb,” she begins and hands them to Jonathan, “I can’t tell what it is, but it’s weird right?”

As she mentions it, you do see a figure shrouded in shadow behind the immortalized girl on the diving board. 

“I see it.” you tell her. She looks up at you, hope shining in her eyes. “It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion,” Jonathan tells you both, and the hope begins to fade from her face. “I wasn’t using a wide angle. I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t see anyone else out there?” she probes.

“No,” he answers, “just Y/n later on, but Barb…she was there one second and gone. I figure she bolted”

“What were you doing there?” Nancy asks you.

“Its kind of a long story…I saw Jonathan’s car and got worried. I didn’t see anyone else though.” 

“Did you see Barb?” she interrogates further. 

“No, I’m sorry.”

“The cops think that she ran away, but they don’t know Barb.” You’re ashamed to admit to yourself that you hadn’t even noticed the girl was missing. You don’t know the younger girl, but when you try to recall her, you remember her in the hallways, a soft smile on her face and Nancy attached to her hip. 

 The numbness begins to wane as you consider everything that’s happened in the past week. Eleven, Benny, Will, and now Barbara. At this point, it can no longer be a coincidence. Nancy’s voice breaks through your train of thought, “And I went back to Steve's and I thought I saw something. Some weird man or…I don’t know what it was.” 

With the reveal of the mysterious figure, it's like trying to put together a puzzle, but all the pieces are from different boxes. The pieces fit, but the picture looks weird. “I’m sorry. I–I shouldn’t have come here today,” she gets up to go. “I’m so sorry.”

Before she can fully leave, Jonathan speaks up, “What’d he look like?” he asks and you remember what he told you earlier, about his mom thinking Will was still alive and being hunted. Could she be right? Its an insane thought, you tell yourself. Jonathan saw the body in the morgue. 

“What?” Nancy turns around to look at him. 

“Jonathan, you don’t think…” you begin, but he ignores you, looking imploringly at Nancy. “This man you saw in the woods, what’d he look like?”

You hold your breath as you stand between the two, and Nancy tries to explain, “I don’t know, it almost like he didn’t ha–”

Jonathan finishes the thought for her, “Didn’t have a face?”

“How did you know that?”

“Jonathan, is there a way to see the picture better?” You ask, grabbing the photo from Nancy’s hand and pointing at the figure. “If this…thing is what got Barb, and it's hunting Will…we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“I guess…I’d need the dark room at the school though.”

“Great, where are you parked?”

“Y/n…”

“Lets go.” you turn and make your way back to downtown. The others follow behind hot on your tail. Jonathan jogs ahead of you to lead you to his car. You arrive and he fumbles for his keys, dropping them in the process. 

He finally unlocks the car and you pile in. On the drive there, you explain to them your thoughts. 

“I think there's something abducting people. On Monday, there was a little girl at the diner. I thought she was a runaway, but what if she wasn’t running from home. What if she was running from whatever thing is. It would explain the weird timing. And then she suddenly vanished again?”

“And Barb went missing the next day…” Nancy picks up your line of thinking. 

“Exactly!” you respond, “I still don’t understand how Benny fits into this, but–”

“Wait,” she interrupts, “Benny? Like ‘Benny's Burgers’ Benny? What does he have to do with this?”

Oh. She doesn’t know.

“Benny…he was found dead the morning after we found the kid. She was nowhere to be seen”

“How do you know that?”

“I, uh, I work there. I was the last one, beside the girl, to see him. The police took me in for questioning. I’ve been trying to figure everything out since then, but…I just don’t understand why he shot himself.”

“Maybe he survived this thing but couldn’t handle it?” Jonathan offers.

“Yeah, like the vets from ‘nam…I had an uncle that fought and came back from that and…” Nancy trails off. You realize how truly little you two know about each other, despite living in a small town where everyone gossips. You don’t dwell on it, though, as Jonathan parks outside the school. 

“How are we gonna get in? School’s been out for a while, it's probably locked.” the boy asks, getting out of the car. You’re already making your way to the gym. “Follow me!” you yell at them. “The coaches never lock this door,” you explain as you lead them to a side entrance. You hold the door for them as they enter. 

The three of you make your way to the dark room. Jonathan prepares the negatives. Neither you nor Nancy understand exactly what he’s doing to the film. 

Nancy asks him, “and you’re?”

He answers, “Brightening. Enlarging.”

“Did your mom say anything else? Like, where it might have gone to, or…” Nancy asks him further

“Nope, just that it came out of the wall.”

The machine dings and Jonathan removes the page, dipping it in some liquid. The picture slowly starts to develop and the three of you crowd around it. It's silent for a moment before Nancy begins speaking again, “How long does this take?” 

“Not long.” Jonathan responds

The waiting is killing you. You tap your fingers against the table as you stare at the paper. 

“Have you been doing this long?” Nancy seems to be like your dad. Unable to endure silence. 

“What?” Jonathan asks, indulging her questioning. 

“Photography.”

“yeah…I guess I’d rather observe people, than…”

“Talk to them?”

As the pair talk, you feel an all too familiar feeling creep up on you. Your rush of figuring out the mystery from earlier is starting to wear off the realization sinks in that whatever is about to reveal itself has already taken a life, if not three more. You hold yourself completely still so as not to alert the others of your impending panic. Your knuckles are nearly white from how tightly you grip the edges of the table. 

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

You hold onto the comfort of your numbers, willing them to be the only thing on your mind. You slowly tune back into the conversation, the emptiness settling back in. 

“Its just sometimes, people don’t always say what they’re really thinking. But you capture the right moment,” Jonathan says, leaning closer to Nancy. “It says more.”

“What was I saying?” Nancy gives him a gentle, almost kind, smirk “When you took my picture?”

Even in the red light, you can tell he’s blushing. “I shouldn’t have taken that. I’m sorry.”

You glance away, not wanting to intrude on whatever intimate moment they’re having. The picture has developed before your eyes, and a grotesque figure looms above Barb. Its a horrifying sight. There is no way this thing is human. Its huge and though it stands upright, its limbs are more animal than man. 

“Nancy…” you interrupt their intense eye contact. “Is this what you saw?”

Her eyes dart away from the boy and down onto the picture. 

“Oh my god…thats it,” she gasps.

“My mom,” Jonathan breathes out, “I thought she was crazy ‘cause she said thats not Will’s body. That he’s alive.”

“And he’s alive–” nancy begins

“Barb and Eleven are too” you finish. 

Jonathan drives the both of you home, “We’ll need a plan, like a real actual plan,” you explain logically, “When are you guys free tomorrow?”

“Well, uh, the funeral is tomorrow, so after that.”

You rub a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, though your theory about Will could be true, it doesn’t change the fact that tomorrow will be a sad day. 

“We’ll need information too. Like everywhere this thing has been”

The car pulls into the Wheeler’s driveway and Jonathan looks at Nancy before she leaves, “Meet us at my car tomorrow.”

She nods resolutely at him, then at you. Alone in his car, you listen to the sounds of the Clash. “This,” Jonathan nods towards the radio, “was Will’s favorite song?”

“Is,” you correct him. “Will’s still alive.”

Jonathan huffs out a gentle, “yeah.”

“Anyway, really? He's like 11, I’m surprised his favorite song isn’t Rainbow Connection or something.”

Jonathan has a faraway look in his eyes, one that tells you he’s not really paying attention to your attempts to cheer him up. “Jonathan,” you begin, “I’m serious. He’s gonna be okay.”

“But what if he isn’t,” he rebuts, “what if we fight this thing and it's too late and he’s still gone?”

Jonathan pulls up to your house and parks, but doesn’t look at you. His grip on the steering wheel is tight. “What if we lose and I’ve failed him again…I can’t do that.”

You scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around him and lean your head on his shoulder. He grabs your arms, grateful for the comforting touch. 

“He’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna save him– and Barb and Eleven. I promise. We’re gonna bring them home.”

He says nothing, just nods against you. You lose track of how long the two of you sit in his car. You don’t dare break away. He needs this. You’ve known the boy for years, but feel like you didn’t actually know anything about him until this week. He’s like you. He doesn’t quite understand how to connect to people, so the people he has in his life are terribly important and all consuming. For a long time, Jonathan just had his mom and Will–you just had your dad and Benny. Then you had each other. Now you both have Nancy.

You couldn’t save Benny, but you could do this for them. You could save their people. You think of the little girl that came in all dirt and grime and skin and bones. You picture her contagious smile as she tried milkshakes–her big doe eyes looking up at you–and you hope that she will be a permanent addition to your small collection of people. You decide she will be, once you defeat this thing. 

Next Chapter

Tags: @ucannotcompare

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 27 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: This one's a little bit short, so I apologize....chapter 28 coming tomorrow as a little treat! Enjoy and let me know what you think!

To say that Ruth Sharpe was frustrated would have been a gross misstatement and understatement of the entire affair.  She didn’t care what doors she had to break down in order to go to the front lines and to retrieve her brother and Robby, she was going to do it either way.  It’s just that one of those ways happened to be sanctioned and legal and the other happened to be very illegal and she’d much prefer the former than the latter. 

A two hour debate with the current Colonel of Thorpe Abbotts had left everyone on base feeling the tension and frustration that she was now experiencing.  Her terms had been simple—she had asked to be sent to the front in order to record war crimes and accounts of misdemeanors of the Germans from those who had experienced them firsthand. 

Everyone knew that it was a desperate ploy to get herself sent there to find Abe and Robby.  

And after being denied—twice, mind you—Ruth should have had the common sense to listen to people about the entire thing and wait.  But rather than do so, she asked for a telegram to be sent ahead to Colonel Sink.  He was the only other Colonel that she knew personally was in Germany at the moment and might be making his way closer and closer to the Stalags where Abe or Robby would inevitably end up if they hadn’t died upon crash or been killed by the Germans. 

So as soon as another telegram came through with instructions and orders, Ruth was practically ready to sprint all the way to the docks of London if it meant getting to her boys sooner. At the moment though, she was packing her essentials and doing her best to keep the room from falling apart. 

Helen had a comforting arm around Liesel, who was openly sobbing into her hands and shaking her head.  Tatty sat silently, watching Ruth pack up her things—scrutinizing the micro-movements. 

“You’re not really going to the front, are you?” Tatty questioned doubtfully. 

Ruth only paused for a moment.  “Hairbrush—yes, I can’t forget that.” She moved to grab the brush and then glanced over at Tatty.  “And yes, I am going to the front.” 

“You’ve lost your mind!” Helen exclaimed.  “What about Liesel?” 

“I’m leaving her with you two!” Ruth retorted, shoving the brush into her bag.  “Besides, with any luck, I’ll be back in a few weeks.” 

“No you won’t!” Liesel nearly shrieked the words, fear making her small frame tremble madly.  “You’ll die out there!” 

“Have a little faith—” 

“It’s not about faith!” Liesel’s small voice carried throughout the entirety of the bunkroom and Ruth just stood there silently for a moment.  “The Nazis in Germany?  If they find out that you—a Jewish American woman—are there?  They will kill you without a second thought and then I will have no one!” 

All at once, the guilt that had been steadily eating away at Ruth’s heart seemed to take hold.  She moved forward at once, enveloping Liesel into a gentle hug—and she just let the girl sob for a long time. 

“I am coming back,” Ruth insisted, finally pulling away from the hug after a moment.  She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the crown of Liesel’s head.  “I can’t just leave Abe or Robby out there.” 

“But you could wait—maybe they’re alive!” Tatty pointed out. 

“I’m not sitting around and waiting for a phone call.  I can’t do that,” Ruth said, shaking her head at them.  “Not when—not when everything is my fault.” 

All at once, Helen was on her feet and taking Ruth’s hand in hers.  “That’s just not true—” 

“Abe’s not even 18,” Ruth blurted. 

Silence fell across the room, stunning both Tatty and Helen to the point of being frozen.  “What do you mean?” Tatty demanded. 

“He’s 17.  He was underage and I should have just sent him home the minute I saw him but I didn’t.  And then Robby and I started fake-dating so that we could distract everyone from the fact that Abe is a runaway.  If the Germans find that out, they will kill Abe.  I am not losing another brother to these bastards,” Ruth snarled out the words.  

“You—” 

“And I didn’t even tell Robby that I love him and I really do and I think that maybe I’ve just been hiding these feelings this entire damn time and he needs to know that he was right and I was wrong and I can’t just do that if I’m sitting here and waiting for him to get back!” Ruth exclaimed.  “The love stories—they all have these grand gestures, right?” 

“Usually from men,” Liesel mumbled. 

“Regardless,” Ruth gestured at her.  “I have to go and find him.  I have to find both of them and bring them back.” 

Another beat of silence between the women in the cabin.  “You are terrifying, you know that?” Tatty said quietly.  And then she took a step forward, placing an arm around Liesel’s shoulders.  “And we’ll look after her.  Don’t worry about Liesel.  She’ll be taken care of and safe.” 

“I know.” 

“And also?” Helen added, a sympathetic expression on her face.  “I’m pretty sure we ALL knew that you and Rosie weren’t really dating but had real feelings.” 

“Seriously?!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruth didn’t enjoy saying goodbye to the base—nor did she enjoy saying goodbye to Kidd or Crosby, both of whom begged her to wait at least three days before leaving to go and find her brother and Robby.  But Ruth could not be deterred.  She felt a call within her soul—a need to go and find them herself. 

A cab ride to London, a boat ride to Normandy, several aid stations and two days later, Ruth had arrived dutifully in Germany.  

She wished she could say that she found the country beautiful, but Ruth did not.  In the cold and dead of this place, she hated it.  She hated it for stealing her brothers away and hiding Abe and Robby from her.  She hated it for harboring the downed airmen that deserved to be back on base or back at home with their families.  Most of all though, she hated the country for not stopping itself from becoming a monster. 

How could anyone be complicit in the horrors of war?  She was no stranger to the fact that war made monsters of everyone involved, not just the perpetrator or the villain.  And war was not so black and white as to assume that there were, in fact, villains or heroes.  

Everywhere she went, she drew strange looks.  That part of things, Ruth had at least expected.  It was strange to find a woman on the front—especially a woman who was not a nurse.  Ruth knew that most of these men had not seen a woman in months, but Sink had given explicit instructions to the men escorting her further into Germany and to wherever Sink’s men had set up camp. 

In hindsight, she knew it probably looked strange—a woman in military uniform wearing a helmet and calmly driving through Germany. That calmness was the truth.  Ruth did not flinch or fear being in Germany. 

She just felt unadulterated righteous rage.  She wondered if the angels tasked with her protection were weary of her foolish endeavors or if they were fully on her side.  This was not the place to pray.  This place was godless.  So Ruth kept a silent prayer of justice and protection in her heart as they pressed on. 

And when Ruth finally appeared at the base camp and found Colonel Sink waiting for her, Ruth felt a small flutter of hope in her heart.  Soon.  Soon. 

[battlemaiden13]

Yandere house! What about an SO who covers under the bed after something big happens to scare them, like its their safe space. Who finds it first and are there any that would pull them out by their leg?

WARNING: Yandere, toxic Relations

Sans -He leaves you be. Like he knows where you are, he has cameras practically everywhere in the mansion but he also knows he won’t be much help if you are terrified. Sans is fully aware that he is not in touch with his feelings and he wouldn’t know where to start helping you feel better so he’ll just let you do your thing. If he is the cause of it though he will feel immensely guilty and keep an eye on you until you emerge from your safe place. 

Papyrus -He doesn’t feel anything in this situation, he doesn’t fully understand why you are hiding under the blanket either. He will make some comment about you being sleepy or something before going about his day. If you tell him you were/are scared then he will feel two things: anger and guilt. He is angry that someone would make you feel scared and guilty that he didn’t notice sooner, either way he apologies that he didn’t notice. 

Red -It takes him a long time to find you, he wasn’t looking that hard and he probably didn’t even see you run off. When he does he has no idea why you are hiding so starts yelling at you before physically dragging you out. When he sees the scared look on your face he freezes instantly knowing he’s fuck it up somehow. He lets you go and more angry with himself he will yell again before storming off. He knows this is his fault but with so many emotions running through him he doesn’t know how to react 

Edge -Patiently waits by the side of your bed drinking his tea and reading a book. He doesn’t know what to say to make you feel better but he doesn’t want to leave you alone either. He doesn’t talk or make much sound and will wait for you to come out and tell him when you are ready. If he’s the one who scared you you do get an apology from him that sounds very sincere. 

Blue -Tells you that you're being silly although he does feel very guilty about scaring you. It seems to be a common occurrence and although he doesn’t want you to be scared he isn’t going to change who he is. He’ll suggest the two of you make a blanket fort together. If you refuse though he will drag you out and force you to help with threats. It’s meant to be a good time, you're the one ruining it with your sniffling and crying. 

Orange -He does find you but it depends who you're scared of. If he scared you somehow he might try to explain himself or he’ll leave you alone out of disgust if it was too bad. He really doesn’t like people knowing about his yandere side. If one of the others scared you he plays a very dotting and worried role. Getting you a weighted blanket, some snakes and telling you that everything is going to be ok. 

Berry -Instantly feels like it’s his fault even if it might not have been. He sits with his knees pulled to his chest on the floor next to your bed waiting for you to be ok. Guilt is eating him alive and as soon as you emerge he is apologizing for everything he had done that morning praying that you don’t hate him.

Syrup -You weren’t meant to see that but it can’t be helped. It doesn’t matter if it was him who scared you or someone else his reaction will be the same when he finds you. He gets you a warm drink, a thick blanket to throw over the one you have, a soft toy and some snacks. Placing them near your bed or on your bedside table before leaving you be. He doesn’t say anything but he is trying to make you feel better or at least safer.

[01131974]

Hey yo, I really like your hc and they look like mine like two drops of water! And I have a juicy question... What was their first time like?

gonna mash these two asks together cuz they're similar in nature!

it's hard to say how it would start. i think it would take a while for lee to warm up to dale as a constant presence in her life, let alone feel sexual feelings towards him. though maybe it wouldn't take that long. maybe those feelings were in lee all along, just sitting dormant in her until she's actually fully alone with dale, then all that repressed sexual frustration bubbles up in her.

the shame would eat her alive first, before anything else. how could she ever forgive herself if she let him do something like that do her? after all he's done? the guilt would swarm within her until it becomes curdled into want, the humiliation of it all contorting itself into a sick taboo desire.

it starts off slow. she starts reciprocating the little bits of affections he gives her, leaning in to his hugs and letting him play with her hair without putting up the usual fuss. then she's actively seeking him out, going down into the basement to ask if he needs anything and ending up hanging out with him on his bed, watching him play guitar and tell stories about his brief time on stage.

as soon as dale finds out dirty things fluster her, oh, that's all he ever talks about after that. he loves slipping in something obscene in the middle of a casual conversation, turning every little thing lee could say into a foul innuendo. if she keeps up her stoic nature, he just goes further and further; eventually he's groping himself and moaning like a pornstar if the other stuff doesn't get lee to crack. seeing her face turn white to crimson is everything to dale. it's hell for lee, though. it doesn't make her feelings towards him any better. especially when his dirtiness go from jokes to actively flirting with her.

dale had already resigned himself to a lonely fate. he would've never expected lee to actually respond to his dirty talk... his sweet little angel, being fond of someone like him? he'd be floored! what would he do with himself if lee said something filthy back to him? responding to one of his quips with something equally as sinful... ooh, how could he ever control himself around her when she acts like that! when she leans into his touch and looks up at him with those dirtsy flirtsy ol' angel bitch eyes, with her perfect little mouth muttering something lewd.

he doesn't deserve her. he could never ever do anything to her without her say-so, but lee is so awkward and passive that she can't muster the courage to actually initiate anything, so for a while it's this playful back and forth. the sexual tension between them during this time was so thick you could cut it with a knife. eventually something actually comes of their little game...

either way, it'd be slow, and wordless, they already understand eachother so well they don't need to speak outloud about what they're doing. little touches here, and there, gently peeling the other's clothing off. i like to think that it would take them a while to actually have sex. the most they do for now is french kiss in dales bed and grinding against each other to completion. sooner than later one of them is gonna break the kiss and ask the other if they're ready... i have to wonder which one it would be!

[walker-extended-universe]

It'll Be Okay

Relationships: Cassie Perez & Cordell Walker, August Walker & Cordell Walker & Stella Walker, Colton Davidson/Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e18 Search and Rescue, Gunshot Wounds, Hospitals, Surgery, Guilt, Feels, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Because there's no way that little trailer got pelted with bullets and the only thing that got hit was Cordell's hat

A/N: Fic finally brought to you by people voting for it during my polls :)

Taglist (if you would like to be added let me know): @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @neptunium134, @itsjessiegirl1

----

Liam’s phone rang on his way back after his talk with Dan. “Hello?”

“Finally you pick up!” James’ frustration was palpable over the line. “Where the hell have y’all been? I’ve been trying to get you on the phone for hours!”

Well, that couldn’t be good. “Woah, sorry, we were at the nature park trying to find Stella and August. Cell service was really bad out there. What’s going on?”

“I- Look, there’s a lot to explain but the basic story is we were checking up on a lead and we got ambushed. Walker got hit with a few bullets and it’s not looking good. They’ve got him in the ICU right now.. He’s alive and stable but he’s not out of the woods yet. Get here now.” He rattled off the address and Liam made a note in his phone before his brain had time to catch up with what he’d just heard. 

Well fuck. Looks like the family wasn’t done for the night.

—------------------

Cordell was sedated and put on a ventilator to give his body time to recover. He’d undergone surgery to remove the bullets and patch the wounds. It wasn’t the first time his family had seen him like this but, with Emily’s death only two years prior, it wasn’t easy to see. 

Three bullet wounds. Major blood loss. Internal bleeding. Minor organ damage. 3 hours in surgery. The surgery had gone as well as could be expected and the doctors were optimistic but stressed that the next few hours would be critical. It was very much still a situation of if he would be okay rather than when. 

Unlike the Walkers, Cassie had other things to occupy herself with than just her partner’s survival. “Why wasn’t I called sooner?” she demanded from James. “He’s my damn partner; if something goes down, I need to know!”

He sighed and rubbed his temple with the hand that wasn’t caught in a sling. “Perez, we were investigating a lead. It was my lead and I asked Walker to accompany me. We didn’t need you there and frankly I’m glad you weren’t. As for why I didn’t call you after he was shot, I was a little preoccupied with figuring out why all the Walkers and our DA had suddenly gone AWOL. I’m not proud of it but I meant no slight against you. Besides, there’s something else you need to know.” He explained the phone call with Rita that set them on the investigation in the first place. “We weren’t sure what to expect and I didn’t want to give you any false hope so we kept you out of the loop. We did end up finding something before we got ambushed though.” He gestured behind her and a very familiar face stepped into their small waiting room.

“Miles?”

—---------------------------------

After an hour of sitting in Dad’s room in the ICU with no updates, Stella got antsy and decided to get up for some of the “coffee” they had in the waiting room. She didn’t have her wallet or she might’ve gone to the cafeteria to get a real drink or something to eat, not that she felt like eating anything. She just couldn’t stand to wait there any longer.

Her dad was strong and he’d been in these situations before. But after losing Mom two years ago and almost losing Colton earlier today, she was all too aware of all the potential outcomes, especially the bad ones.

She found a coffee station, poured herself a cup, and blindly walked around as a distraction. She’d been in hospitals many times before (she was pretty sure she was a frequent flier at this location in particular) but she never got used to how quiet they could be. It was one thing in an emergency, when everyone was running around and machines were going off and the air was charged with knowing that something was happening. But those brief moments weren’t the norm.

Hospitals were a dreadful place of quiet. It was a place where grieving family members said goodbye to their loved ones. It was a place where people sat, chained to their beds, knowing there was nothing to be done but wait for the all-clear. It was a place where medical debt was handed out like candy, killing any happiness someone might’ve had from knowing their mother or father or sister or son wasn’t dead after all. For every happy recovery story, there were at least five tales of woe.

She hated hospitals.

“Stella?”

A voice startled her from her thoughts and she turned to see Dan Miller poking his head out of one of the rooms. “Oh, hi Mr. Miller….”

“Call me Dan. What’re you doing here? Did you come to check on Colton?”

She bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him that his family wasn’t the center of the damn universe.. He probably just didn’t know and it’s not like that was a crazy assumption to make. “Uh, not. I’m…. I’m here for my dad. He got shot on a case and we’re all worried…..”

Dan blanched and he sheepishly glanced away. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay,” she said reflexively. “How is Colton, by the way?”

“On the mend. The doctor says he can probably go home tomorrow, they just want to keep an eye on him overnight.”

“That’s good.” At least someone was making it out of this alive. “I’m sorry about everything. I should’ve had my phone charged better and I’m the one that decided to change trails without even telling August-”

“It’s okay,” Dan said. “I know today was hectic but…. It could’ve been a lot worse. And it wasn’t. Because you stepped up.”

She nodded and pretended to take the compliment. “I try. Do… Do you mind if I visit Colton? We’re just waiting to hear about Dad and….” And I need something to do or I’m going to lose my mind.

“Uh, yeah, he’s just down the hall. Room 232.”

She nodded and walked past him towards the room. She hesitated outside the door before going in. She didn’t want to bother Colton but she had to see for herself that he was okay. She softly knocked on the door as she entered. “Hey….”

Colton looked up from his phone and smiled at her. “Hey. I didn’t think you were coming to visit me tonight.”

“I wasn’t,” she admitted. “My dad is in right now. I’m just… Trying to kill time while we wait for news.”

“What happened?”

She fiddled with her empty coffee cup. “He got shot. Not our first time dealing with that. The doctors think he’ll be okay but we’re still waiting on confirmation.”

“I’m sorry,” Colton said, reaching for her hand.

She took it and sat in the chair next to his bed. “Thanks,” she murmured. “He’ll probably be fine but…. I worry about him. It’s like every time this happens I wonder if this is going to be it. If this is going to be the time he got too unlucky….” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear all this.”

“I want to,” he said gently. “I can’t imagine how scary that is, even if you’ve been here before.”

She felt a smile tugging at her lips. “I appreciate that, but I did come here to check on you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Doctor says I can leave tomorrow. You did a good job earlier.”

“I try.” She squeezed his hand. “I know that wasn’t an ideal first date….”

“Maybe not. But it was a memorable one.” He chuckled and she couldn’t help but laugh with him.

—----

It wasn’t until the next day that the doctor’s declared Cordell was out of the woods and on the road to recovery. “You’re very lucky,” they told him after the breathing tube was removed. “We’ll have you out of here in a few days but no going back into the office for at least three weeks. And even then I’m going to recommend desk work only for a while.”

For once, he wasn’t going to argue. This whole mess had been a little too close. With everything going on, he wasn’t going to say no to a little family time. He knew his kids needed to hug him and his mother needed to fuss over him. He got lucky and if the past couple years had taught him anything, it was to not press that luck too far.

They moved him out of the ICU and into a normal room for the duration of his stay. His family was there as soon as visiting hours started. The kids got first hugs and he bit down the grunt of pain when Stella hugged him a little too close to one of the bullet wounds. He just thanked anyone who would listen that he could hug them again. He listened to the story of what happened at the nature park before they got called to the hospital and sent out another “thanks” that his family was still intact.

His parents came in next, followed by Liam. “How are you feeling, baby?” Abilene asked, brushing a few imaginary hairs out of his face.

“Like I got shot,” he muttered. “I’m fine, Mama. Really.”

“Sure you are.”

“What happened?” Liam asked.

“I was checking up on a lead with James and we got ambushed. Guess it was a better lead than we thought,” he tried to joke. “We weren’t prepared for it. Honestly, it could’ve been worse. I’m just glad we can start moving forward.”

“You mean James can start moving forward,” Abby said. “You are resting until the doctor clears you to get back to work.”

“Yes, Mama.”

—---

He could tell something was bothering Cassie from the minute she walked in, as much as she tried to hide it. He may be new to being her partner, but he knew her well enough to know where her thoughts were.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Blame yourself for this.”

“I-”

“Cassie….” Cordell squeezed her hand. “I know you are. You’re doing that thing where you’re trying not to look at me and pretending you’re fine.”

She sighed. “I just…. It’s my fault you were there in the first place.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly. “The whole operation was James’ idea and neither of us expected that attack. We didn’t even know if there was anything to the lead. It’s absolutely not your fault.”

“I know that,” she said quietly. “But…. This is my thing. I should’ve been there.”

“Maybe,” Cordell said. “But you weren’t. And that wouldn’t’ve changed what happened. I’d probably still be in this hospital bed and you’d probably be in one of your own and then we’d be arguing with you about how much work you’re allowed to do on Miles’ case while you heal.”

“Walker-”

“My point is,” he continued, squeezing her hand again, “This isn’t your fault. There’s nothing for you to feel bad about. It happened, it sucks, but we can’t change it. I’m on the mend and in a few weeks I’ll be back in the office like nothing happened. In the meantime, you’re going to do your job and save your former partner from whatever mess he got himself into. Okay?”

Cassie nodded, squeezing back. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Damn right you can.”

[daandyli0n]

so!! since i'm still thinking about my Fnaf Rewrite,

The Afton Children in the rewrite (order of age):

Alexander "Alex" Afton

the eldest.

15 in 1983, 19 in 1987, 24-25 in 1993.

the Fnaf 1-2 Phone Guy.

the "Foxybro" of this rewrite.

short story summary:

Alex had been a Mama's Boy through and through. His mother's death in childbirth had absolutely devastated him, and he took it out on his younger brother, Cassidy, despite him being only a child. His father's emotional manipulation and abuse following his mother's death, done in a desperate attempt to keep his own children out of trouble and thus out of danger, certainly didn't help matters.

This is not to say that Cassidy was the only family member he lashed out towards. Michael and William generally had to face the brunt of his anger, something that typically led to Mike and Alex being at each other's throats quite often. This is also not to say that Alex didn't love his siblings; he would've traded his life for theirs any day. Unfortunately, his anger and pain outweighed that love.

Cassidy's death changed Alex. He mellowed out a bit, but that mostly came from the guilt that threatened to eat him alive daily. He got a job at Freddy's, mostly at his father's request. He would generally record messages for the employees who worked the nightshift, typically to give company policy updates and advice/orders for their shifts. But as time went on...it became clear that Alex had come to some realizations. Realizations about the skeletons in his father's closet. Specifically, the several child-sized skeletons in his father's closet. One of which he believes might be his brother's.

He's starting to suspect his father's explanation of Cassidy "mysteriously and suddenly" dying in his sleep, when he'd been doing nothing but improving for the past two months prior, might've been a lie.

Maybe Cassidy had gotten suspicious, too. Maybe Dad shut him up, and then covered up his crime as being a "sudden" death.

Unfortunately, Alex never got to find that out while he was alive. His short life ended towards the end of 1993, during one of his last night shifts.

Seems that Cassidy wasn't as forgiving as Alex might have thought he was.

Michael "Mike/Mickey/Mikey/Mick" Afton

the second oldest.

12-13 in 1983, 16-17 in 1987, 22-23 in 1993, 31-32 in 2001, 42-43 in 2012, 44-45 in 2014.

our good old protagonist.

typically the "Night 6" nightguard, although he is the main protagonist, or at least a secondary protagonist, in a few games in this rewrite.

short story summary:

William's spitting image. Michael was, surprisingly enough, the peacekeeper of his household. One of Cassidy's only allies in the house, alongside Elizabeth, Michael was rather close to his baby brother, even going as far to sew a walkie-talkie into his brother's plushie so the two could communicate better when Mike was away.

When Cassidy was brought home from the hospital to recover, Michael, out of guilt for not getting there sooner, is with him every step of the way, even as Cassidy's behavior got more...concerning.

In the aftermath of his brother's death, Mike struggles to hold himself together in his grief. William pushes him to work at Freddy's, supposedly as a distraction of sorts.

It is while working as an employee that Mike starts to suffer more tragedy: Jeremy almost dies from a mangled plastic fox biting down into his skull. Before that, several more children died in that very restaurant. His brother dies in the final restaurant before the company went dormant for a few decades.

Then his father disappears in early 1995, and Michael tries to bury down his trauma. It is when he gets a job to act as a nightguard for the now abandoned Fredbear's Family Diner, that he is forced to confront his past...

and his now dead father.

He's going to make this right. For everybody. For those missing children, for Charlie.

For Cassidy.

Evan Afton

the middle child.

11 in 1983, 28-29 in 2012, 30-31 in 2014.

the lucky one.

doesn't have a main-ish role in story until Fnaf 3 and 6, and even then it's just him keeping in touch with Michael.

short story summary:

Evan steered clear of any family drama, and kept his feelings and grief to himself, mostly. One of the brightest kids in the family, save Mike, Evan's future was a promising one.

He left for college a few states over, and never looked back. Not as everything started going to shit for his family. He only ever really kept in touch with Michael.

Mike considers him lucky. He got a chance to leave before everything went to hell in a gas truck.

Even then, Evan still maintains Cassidy's grave every few months, checking on the flowers and making sure the grave hasn't been disturbed.

He still misses the brother that never really got the chance to live.

Elizabeth "Liz/Lizzy" Afton

the only daughter.

8 in 1982.

the death that set off the chain of dominos.

one of the spirits that haunts Freddy's, just not in "Circus Baby" in the rewrite :) (although it is effectively Baby's equivalent in this rewrite)

short story summary:

Daddy's Girl. His little angel. Her death in 1982 truly sets the plot in motion.

Stuck in a clown hare robot after getting to close to it while it was malfunctioning one day, Liz is more confused than anything else. Why she's still here. Why her big brother killed her baby brother. Why her father killed her friends.

She has complicated feelings on her father towards the end, not sure what to think of the man she once idolized.

Especially after learning what happened to Cass.

Cassidy "Cass/Cassy" Afton

the baby of the family.

5-6 in 1982, 6-7 in 1983.

one of the Fredbear spirits, specifically the Vengeful Spirit.

"The One You Should Not Have Killed."

short(ish) story summary:

Cassidy's birth had also been his mother's death, and the start to his father's mental decline. Socially anxious, and easily frightened, Cassidy had always had hurls of insults and taunts thrown at him from his eldest brother, Alex: "Crybaby," "Scaredy Cat," you get the idea.

Mike and Liz were his only real guardians in that household. Well, aside from his dad, of course. But he worked a lot.

And then he watches Liz die to an animatronic. His simple anxiety soon escalates to trauma, paranoia, fear.

He is comforted by some of Liz's friends from school, who recognize him as her brother. The girls, Gabrielle and Naomi, as well as a couple of other kids, are some of Cass's first friends aside from his siblings. Charlie, Uncle Henry's daughter and a girl that Cass practically considers a sister, is also there for him.

For two months, Cass sneaks away from home to hang out with these kids, to find some distraction from his life. They even get him gifts! It's not even his birthday yet! Charlie even gets a special Fredbear plush from her dad to give to him!

Then Charlie is murdered.

And then those nice kids disappear...

Cassidy takes it all really hard. But at least he still has Mickey...

Then Alex "pranks" him. He's never felt so much pain before...is this what Lizzy felt when she died?

He's apparently in a coma for three days, but it feels like it's been weeks.

He saw all the kids and Charlie there. But they all looked...different. Sadder.

They told him what his dad did to them.

He plays with them. Charlie seems worried, hoping he'll "make it," that he won't end up like them.

He hears Alex apologizing to him and-

He wakes up. His family is there.

Alex looks...relieved.

The next two months are tense. He's feeling better, but...he's angry. Angry that Alex almost killed him. Angry that his father hurt his friends. He hurt Charlie.

Michael hovers around him any chance he gets, like if he isn't careful, Cassidy will die if he looks away for too long. Michael is the only one he really talks to much anymore, because Michael doesn't seem too weirded out by his behavior.

But, unfortunately, his father doesn't seem to enjoy Cassidy’s constant reference to his victims. He takes Cassidy aside, trying to "reason" with him that Cass had only seen them in a coma dream, that what he had heard them say was only something his brain had conjured up while he was between life and death. Cass doesn't believe him.

One night, around two months after The Incident, Cassidy awakens to his father's hands wrapped around his throat. He's only seven, he never stood a chance against his dad.

His father chokes the life out of him and buries his body in the woods. He makes the death out to be a natural one, like Cass had simply died in his sleep. Charlie finds his soul in the woods where he is buried, and she guides him back to Freddy’s, to inhabit the suit that, eventually, in a way, killed him.

Cassidy is angry. At his situation and everyone else's. And worst of all, he'll likely never get justice for his own murder.

But he'll make make sure his father gets what's coming to him.

He is the one his father should not have killed, in that regard.

[sherlkore]

The Mistake

Part 2 of Evil! Thiego series.

"You know, I really hoped that you would join me....." He said, gently stroking his dead sister's head, smiling slightly. "I thought you'd be by my side no matter what, but as always, you love to prove to me otherwise, don't you?" He sighed, closed her eyes and stood up, feeling that someone was standing behind him, he guessed who it was and knew that sooner or later, this moment would come. Standing behind him was none other than Stephen Strange, his father, the man he looked up to the most.

He didn't want to hear any talk about how he could fix this, because they both knew it was impossible. Thiego's mind was corrupted by the Darkhold, he no longer saw anyone but himself, standing on top of the world and looking down at people who considered him a god, that's what the Darkhold promised him, strength, power.

But at the moment when Stephen's dead body fell to the floor, for a moment he seemed to wake up, realizing what he had done,he looked around, seeing his already dead friends, family. But he stopped and wondered, wasn't that what he wanted? Get rid of those who stand in his way, those who prevent him from making this world a better place? Even if these are the people who he considered close, his family.

Thiego turned away and left, leaving them behind. Many thoughts ran through his head, as if he had a war inside himself that he was losing. He could fix it all, he could bring them back to life, but this time in a better world! That's why he succumbed to the Darkhold, the Darkhold understood him and gave him abilities that would help him create a better world, the rest did not understand him, called him a madman, saying that he could not just take and create a new world, start from scratch. Why? Why did they have to stop him?! Why couldn't they just listen to him?! They wouldn't be dead now and the guilt wouldn't eat him up!

Thiego felt like he was going crazy with every thought, he could not stand this pain, the pain that would remain with him forever, because he could not blame anyone but himself. He had to find a way to somehow turn off these feelings, the Darkhold has always helped him, and now he needs its help yet again. Instead, he found something even better, he smiled, the Darkhold always knew exactly what he needed, he found a spell that would allow Thiego alter another universe, where his friends and family are all alive! He looked at the book, his eyes filled with tears, he smiled. "Don't worry hermanita, we'll be together again soon, I promise..." He casted the spell and suddenly everything went dark.

Tags: @msrochelleromanofffelton @jackiequick @raphroseybeanpie @blueboirick

[novaethecosplayer]

Dabi being a house-husband for his highly successful S.O. when he is home from villian activities.

Like S.O. :

Owns the house (before even meeting Dabi)

Has a bachelors and masters; Working on thier doctorate

A stable career that they actually enjoy

Always has time or makes time for family, friends, and--of course--Dabi and his crazy schedule

Anything else you would consider being successful

Dabi is just so proud of them (lil jealous but proud) and ends up eventually slipping into a house-husband type role because S.O. likes how domestic he can act when he's not out seeking revenge. Dabi is obviously benefitting off that role too. He knows if he cleans the dishes that S.O. has been too busy to do, they'll cook him something. Or if he helps pick up around the house, they'll get him something he wants in return as a thanks. Or if Dabi does the laundry while S.O. is out, he knows when they get back, they'll give him more attention in some way (cuddles, kisses, intimate acts, ect).

But it can also be really upsetting for him because he could have did what his S.O. is doing and been able to provide for them if it weren't for his father when he was younger (or his younger self too but he won't admit he is at falter; easier to blame dad 100%). I can see him getting fed up with not understanding what his S.O. is saying because he asked what they were working on and he has not a single clue about this topic because he only passed 6th or 7th grade. Or how inadequate he might feel because he cannot provide his S.O. with nicer gifts or more frequent gifts because he doesn't have an income. Or how his acts of villianry might keep him away longer than either of them would want and he comes and goes too frequently to have a set schedule, but he has had their schedule memorized for years now; whereas he knows they wait everyday apart worrying if he'll show up dead or alive and how long it'll be until they see him again. The guilt will eat at him because sometimes he wishes he can just clock out like a regular 9-5 and go home to his S.O. everyday, but he can't.

Although, there are nights that's are few and far between where he knows he did the right thing and would never change his mind. The nights they walk home together from somewhere and his S.O. clings to him with their eyes darting to find anything that might attack them. He smiles when he pulls them into his side and feels them relax, knowing he'll keep them safe. Or when his S.O. calls him up because it got dark sooner than they expected and they need to hear him to feel safe enough to go home alone. Or the rare nights where a criminal or villian decides to rough up his S.O. and his S.O. calls him for help--letting him become their hero while also being a villian.

So yes being a house-husband for a successful S.O. can suck for Dabi, but the perks and being their protector is better that the downfalls.